This is Where We Go From Here

As you guys know I had a third heart surgery last month and unfortunately it wasn't successful. Today I went in for my follow up appointment to figure out what to do next.

It turns out that the bad rhythms I am having aren't sustainable enough to fix them with surgery. And some of the arrhythmia I am experiencing isn't actually surgically fixable at all. We have discovered though that I have crazy low blood pressure naturally and not only is it causing me to have severely low energy (I am nodding out in the middle of the day while I am working) but it also may be contributing to my heart problems.

So the first plan of attack is to get me hydrated and pumped full of minerals and vitamins that will strengthen my heart and bring my blood pressure back up. Lots of water and electrolytes-- I have settled on Propel water because it doesn't have sugar and I need the sodium that coconut water doesn't provide. I have also been instructed to add more salt to my diet, which is a super weird thing to hear from your doctor! And lastly I am supposed to get more magnesium and potassium into my diet. Sucky thing is-- potassium is good for your heart but also lowers your blood pressure!!

He is also prescribing me a daily medication that will raise my blood pressure and hopefully help with the energy. The only thing is that is has some side effects and one of them is heart arrhythmia. So fingers crossed that the side effects don't get me!

He is also prescribing me a medication that I can take as needed for the tachycardia. I only really experience that right now whenI work out, so I just have to take it before I do that and hopefully it works. I have had issues with medications that break the blood/brain barrier in the past, but this is water soluble, so I am hoping the side effects are minimal-- especially since I am not taking it daily.

Lastly, he stressed finding holistic options. Which I think is really refreshing to hear from a doctor. He told me to find foods and supplements that are rich in the things I need to help stabilize my heart beats. He said he has had patients that figure out that a banana a day help them immensely. So I am going to try to holistic approach first for a bit. If that doesn't help, I am going to try the blood pressure meds. And if that doesn't help, I will go to the heart meds.

Basically it is a waiting game now. If my problems get significantly worse, he can go back in surgically and try to fix them. But right now they aren't severe enough to try that route again and my doctor thinks I will just get the same result.

So I am currently eating a banana and drinking propel water and taking supplements. I am staying positive because I think that is the most important thing-- especially because stress makes everything worse with my heart. I feel like things are going to be ok. They have to be!

Thank you again from the bottom of my crooked little heart for all of your love, well wishes, prayers, gifts, and cards. They honestly have done so much to help my morale and keep my smiling even when its through tears. I am on my path to wellness!!

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Finding My Real Father

Me and Dad before the news

When I was 12, my parents called me downstairs and told me that we needed to talk. I remember my mom started getting choked up and the first thing that she said was "sperm doesn't make a dad, it makes a father." She went on to tell me that the dad I had known and loved for 12 years wasn't my biological dad. I looked over at my always stoic dad and saw tears in his eyes for the first time in my life. I felt like those movie scenes where the camera zooms in, but the background zooms out. I felt like I had been punched in the gut. I had no idea what to think or how to feel.

They told me that mom had gotten pregnant when she was 16 and bio dad, Daryl, was 15 and just a friend of a friend. I was conceived and born in Southern California and as far as I know, bio dad only met me once or twice as a baby. His mom wanted to adopt me, but mine said no. When I was almost a year old, my mom decided that the neighborhood we lived in wasn't safe anymore so she moved up to Portland, OR to live with her dad. After the move, she lost contact with Daryl and his family and shortly after, met my dad and they got married and he legally adopted me when I was a few years old.

Being adopted is such a weird thing. I had a dad. And growing up, my dad was great. I didn't need anything. But I still felt like something was missing. I started to feel like something was wrong with me. What had I done to make him not want to stay? I dealt with so many years of abandonment issues. I remember the day they told me, going up to the bathroom mirror and just staring at myself. I felt like a stranger in my own skin. I felt like all at once I knew exactly who I was, but also had no idea. That night I lay in bed just feeling my face and arms and legs and feeling like an alien.

After that day, I thought about Daryl every now and then but never gave finding him much thought. My mom let it be known from the beginning that finding him was totally up to me and she would support me either way. These were the days before the internet-- finding a person involved a lot of work or Maury Povich. When I was 24, I was diagnosed with a heart condition and every piece of paperwork I filled out had an entire blank half that was "family history." I started to think more about finding Daryl, but was still scared and held back.

When I was 26, I moved to LA. One day I was getting my oil changed out near where I was born and drove by the hospital for the first time that I was born in. It finally hit me-- I needed to know. That night I called my mom and told her I was finally ready to find Daryl and she was behind me 100%.

The next day, I started what I thought was going to be a long and arduous process. All I knew about this guy was his first and last name, his approximate age, and where he want to high school. That was it. My first search was Facebook and that turned out to be a bust. Next I tried classmates.com since I knew his school info. I hit the enter button and up popped a face that matched with the name. I sent the pic to my mom to see if it was him and her words were "Oh my god. He is older, but I'll never forget that face."

I sat staring at my computer screen for a long time. I studied his face. He looked kind. He also looked like he had broken his nose a few times. He was young and handsome. I hoped he was a good man. I held my breath and wrote the weirdest and scariest email I have ever written in my life. I basically told him that I wasn't sure if he had a new family or if they knew about me and I wasn't trying to stir up any trouble. I told him that I wasn't asking him for anything-- money or a relationship-- I just had some questions I wanted to ask. I even said that if he could put me in contact with his mom instead, that would be totally fine. I didn't want to scare him away. I hit the send button and cried a little and then let it go.

Two days later, my mom called me crying, barely able to speak, and told me to open my classmates profile. There waiting for me was a message from Daryl. He told me that he had missed me my entire life. He told me that he had been through some trouble, but when he finally got it together, he couldn't find me or my mom and it was too late. He sent me his phone number and within hours, we were talking on the phone. He told me that his entire family knew about me and that he kept a picture of me in his wallet. He told me that I had 3 brothers. He told me that there were no major health problems on his side. He told me that his birthday had been a few days prior and that finding me was the best birthday present he could have asked for. He wanted to meet me immediately.

At the end of this day, my head was spinning. I was thrilled! I had been wanted after all! There was nothing wrong with me! I wanted to meet him and his whole family RIGHT NOW! I went home and Trevor sort of talked me off of the ledge. He told me that maybe I should slow down and take it all in and figure out what I really wanted to do and not get swept up in my Oprah moment. He was right. A few months later, Daryl was in town so I agreed to take Trevor to meet him and his girlfriend for dinner.

Me and Daryl at my wedding

We sat across the table from each other just staring at each others faces. I can't even tell you what a Twilight Zone moment that whole dinner was. It was the best and most weird all at once. After dinner we parted ways but kept in contact. The following year, Trevor and I got married and I invited Daryl. Let me tell you, he was the talk of the town. For 27 years, to my entire family, Daryl had just been a name. And all of my friends thought he was a babe, which was super gross and weird. It is the curse of having young parents. But I am glad that he came and was able to share in one milestone moment
in my life.

I don't consider Daryl my "dad." I also don't consider him my sperm donor. He is a nice man that gave me life. He has a good heart and he has tried his best. We have since fallen out of touch, but that's ok. I went into finding him with an open mind and no expectations and I feel that what I got out of it was the best of all possible scenarios. I know that a lot of people go on the same hunts only to have their hearts broken. I wake up every morning now feeling that my last puzzle piece is in place and knowing exactly who I am and why.
Thank you for my life, Daryl. It is the best gift anyone has ever given me.

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United we Stand, Divided we Fall.

November 8, 2016. I cried myself to sleep. November 9, 2016. I woke up crying and walked around in a black fog all day. I was hateful. I was hurt. I was mad as hell and wanted to strike out at anyone that I deemed at fault.

November 10, 2016. I woke up anew. Today I realize that you can't battle hate with hate. It just doesn't work. I stepped back in the middle of a Facebook war last night and thought, what is my hate getting me right now? What is my hate changing? Nothing. It is just making me as bad and as hateful as the person attacking me. I told the guy on the other end that I respected him and chose to remove myself. I realized that after I did that, I had won.

One thing I refuse to do is run. This is MY country. This is OUR country. I am staying and I am fighting just like the generations before me did. The generations that fought for women's rights. The generations that fought for civil rights. The generations that fought to get our society to a place of love and acceptance. It is now our duty to keep that torch burning and keep fighting. Not everyone has the ability or the privilege to run... We must stay for those that have no choice.
Now is the time to support each other. Support your LGBTQ family. Support your family of color. Support your female family. Support your immigrant family. Support all of the family that is scared for what will happen in their lives now. Be the change you want to see.

Now is the time for everyone to get involved. Stop venting on Facebook. Stop twitter feuding. Get out there and figure out what you can do to change the things that need changing and keep the things that are working. MAKE your voice be heard. Get off of your couch and go to (peaceful) protests. Get out of your house and vote on the measures that will save our rights. Write to your congress men and women and TELL them what you need. Be active in your community. In the next primary-- VOTE. Lets get a candidate that speaks for US.

Am I angry? Sure. Am I scared? Absolutely. But today I choose to take all of those feelings and channel them positively. I choose to keep my head up. I choose to believe that love will win.
It's only 4 years.

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Day 67- A Smile is Contagious

So today I had to run to the grocery store and as I was walking out, there was a man walking in with the BIGGEST smile on his face. Like, Black Hole Sun big. He was all alone and he wasn't talking on the phone or anything. He was just smiling at something happening in his very own head. And don't get me wrong... this wasn't a crazy person smile. He was just genuinely happy about something.
This smile was so big and beautiful that for a second I pondered asking him what he was smiling about so I could be in on his happiness. Did he win the lottery? He was in scrubs, did he just save someones life? Did he just get proposed to? Did he just find out he is going to be a dad? Did he just eat an amazing sandwich?? Did he find a triple decker girl scout cookie??? I really wanted to know!
But then I realized that his smile was his business and I should let him keep it. But I have to say, that darn smile was contagious. I smiled on my whole drive home.

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Day 62- My Love For Nurses

I love nurses. Nursing is one of the most under appreciated positions around. I just finished a marathon of Nurse Jackie and it got me thinking about my own experiences in and out of the hospital for so many years.
I loved my cardiologist. Loved, loved, loved. He was an amazing doctor and a kind man. But let me tell you, on the day of my surgeries, I didn't even really see him at all because I was knocked out before he got to me. You know who I did see? Nurses.
For my first surgery I went in and had a newbie nurse who botched my IV and had no bedside manner. Luckily, the surgery before me ran way late and they had to send me home and reschedule me. When I went back a month later, I was shell shocked and terrified. But luckily I had a good nurse who numbed me and put in my IV flawlessly. She was sweet and reminded me of my grandma. When I woke up, I found out that they hadn't been able to fix me and also that I had flatlined and I was shocked and scared and crying.  She fed me broth and rubbed my forehead and I started crying even more because she was so kind and familiar.
When I went back for my second surgery, I actually scheduled it on a day that she was working so that I could have her again. It was 2 days before Christmas and as I walked into the pre op room, there was a little gift waiting on my bed. It was a little heart shaped ring box and a heart shaped picture holder-- and a note that welcomed me back. Again, I cried. I couldn't believe that someone could be so kind and compassionate and make me feel so comfortable when I was so scared.
Through the years I have had many nurses-- good, bad, and straight up terrible. Some of them I remember, some of them I don't. But the one nurse that will always have a special place in my heart (pun intended) is my surgical nurse. She really made an otherwise horrible and scary experience bearable.
Nurses fill so many roles. They are caretakers, they are medical professionals, they care caregivers, and for me, they are the people that can make or break my anxiety when things are going bad. Next time you are at your doctors office... thank your nurse. You may only see your nurse for a few moments, but just remember that they are doing really crucial
things too. Your nurse is basically your doctors wing man. That is important stuff.
To all of you nurses out there... I salute you. Thank you for the time, the patience, and the care that you give us.

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Day 55- My Move to LA

I was at the beach a few days ago before an appointment. I just sat there and thought how amazing and strange my life is compared to where I was 7 years ago.
In 2008, my life was in a bad place. For those of you that don't know, I was married before (more on that later). My marriage had been in shambles for a good year and finally in July we called it quits for good. The previous year I had undergone two heart surgeries and it had given me a new perspective on life. I was clinically dead for just under a minute after my first surgery and it really made me realize that it can all be gone in a flash. If I died tomorrow, what did I have to show for it? Almost nothing.
At the end of 2008 I graduated college, had discovered my freedom, and was looking to make some changes. I loved Portland, but I felt that it had offered me all of the experiences and opportunities that it could and I was ready for something bigger. I had a good friend that had moved to LA a few years before and I went to visit her that summer. I also met a boy... and although he wasn't the love of my life, he did give me hope that boys could actually be nice and genuine and not make me cry. I had never had any real desire to move to LA, but it just seemed like something different and new and exciting and I really had nothing to lose. After 4 years of being tied down and seeing my future dwindling, I decided to just hold my breath and make the leap.
I had about $1000 total in my bank and about $30k in student loan debt. I had no job. I had 1 friend and a boyfriend. I had no plans to speak of. But I did it. And Jesus, was it scary. I left on December 18, 2008. My boyfriend flew up and then we drove down in a UHaul that had every last thing I owned crammed in the back. We had to drive through one of the worst winter storms the northwest had seen in a decade and I had white knuckles all the way through the mountains. I remember pulling into LA just as the sun was coming up, exhausted and scared and cold.
I found a minimum wage job at a tattoo shop. I got a few small modeling jobs here and there. The boyfriend and I parted ways. I met a small handful of really genuine people that helped keep me smiling through the tough days. I met Trevor.
I can't say that it was easy. It wasn't. At all. The first year and a half I spent in LA was one of the hardest of my life. I missed my friend and family. I missed familiarity. I struggled to find work and pay my bills. I was dead broke and living off of pantry crumbs. My car broke down about 8 times. I made it through a whole summer with no AC in my apartment or my car. At one point I remember sitting in Trevors van, wrenching my hands and crying knowing that if I didn't find a real job within a few months, I would have to move to Denver to live with my mom. I was 26 and felt like an utter failure. I cried... A LOT.
But I made it through. And 7 years later, I am happier than I have ever been. By 1,000 times. I have a cute little house with all of my creature comforts. I have a new car that is reliable. I have a car AND a house that have AC. My dealings with sweaty armpits are minimal. I feed myself regularly and healthfully. I have health insurance. I have a job that I absolutely love and that allows me to travel the world meeting hot babes. I have a steadfast group of friends that have taken me on all kinds of adventures. Most importantly, I have a stupendous husband who loves me more and better than any other human ever has or ever could. And I have his incredible
family to love too.
Sometimes it takes those scary leaps to make you realize that life is waiting for you. The universe always catches you.

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Day 39- Mister Ras

I was a good kid in school. I got good grades. Never got in trouble. And generally had a good rapport with my teachers. But my sophomore and junior years were rough. I had a lot of really bad family stuff going on and my parents were in the middle of a nasty divorce, and eventually a move out of state that left me on my own (more on that later). Art class was my escape and Mister Ras (short for Rasmussen, but high school kids do like to nickname) was my savior.
Mister Ras just got me. He was sarcastic. He had a dry sense of humor. He was kind. He was creative. All of the things that I related to. He actually had a daughter in my year, but we didn't really know each other well. Mister Ras was like the ultimate school-dad. He was so cool. He clowned students (in a super hilarious and not mean way) and he didn't take himself too seriously. He was passionate about art. And he wanted us to be passionate about it too. He loved creative students. He was a square looking guy-- but he appreciated my punk rock aesthetic. He always complimented my changing hair colors and assorted piercings and ripped/homemade attire. He got a kick out my weirdness. And he made me feel like I wasn't so weird.
That art room behind those two sets of doors was my home. It was my safe haven. It was the place I could always go to cry, or be pissed, or vent with no judgments. Mister Ras let me use his personal phone to make family related calls so I could hide away. (no cell phones back then, folks) He also let me do my senior project as a mural on an entire wall of the art room. When all else failed, Mister Ras gave me chocolate bars to make my days brighter. Mister Ras saw something in me at a time in my life when I saw nothing in myself. He made me feel special and talented and like I could do anything.
A few months ago, I was thinking about Mister Ras so I searched the internet high and low for him. And then I found his daughter. I emailed her for his info, sent him an email telling him how much he has inspired me through hard times, and then held my breath for a response. My greatest fear was that 17 years later he wouldn't even remember who the hell I was. I was grateful for my unique name.
Not long after, I got a reply. He remembered me. And he told me that remembering me made him smile, and that I was one of the most honest people he had ever encountered. He told me that I made teaching fun. And then he thanked me for being me. I sat there fighting back tears and reading his words and my heart was so full. It is so powerful how much influence a teacher can have on a young persons life. And even more powerful that so many years later, the internet can bring two people back together as adults.
Mister Ras and I keep in touch regularly now. He watches my youtube videos and sends me kind words. Mister Ras is my buddy now, and I think that is pretty cool. And he has a vintage radio collection. Which is also pretty cool.
I hope that when he reads this blog (which he will, because I fully intend on sending it his way when I am done), that he is proud to have made such an impact on my life. I hope that my one small experience puts a smile on his face. And I hope that he eats a chocolate bar in my honor.

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