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Just south of lowbrow.

My bit of self importance & narcissism bestowed upon the internet one post at a time.

Last August, I gave up everything I had in Michigan– boyfriend, house, good job, friends, and even my pets, to move to Las Vegas, to take care of my ailing father. It wasn’t shortly after that before the symptoms started. And from then on the progressed, rather rapidly. I found myself in the Emergency Room in September, only to have the doctors have no clue as to what was wrong with me and send me on my merry way with a prescription for Lortab. The symptoms continued, and continued getting worse; at times completely debilitating. I found myself in the Emergency Room again in October. Again with no answers, not even from a CT Scan and ultrasound, just a 10 day prescription of hormones, month supply of Lortab and Mortin 600. On comes November, and my symptoms have me leaving work and heading straight to the emergency room. Again with the tests, again with the “I’m not certain what’s wrong with you, your hormones are probably just out of whack.” A doctor actually used that term with me; “out of whack.” Did I mention I ended up losing that job, the job that afforded me healthcare coverage, because of that visit to the hospital? God bless Right To Work states. So I’m sent to a Gynecologist who tells me verbatim “come back in February when you have insurance and we’ll start tests.” I paid him $500 out of my pocket for him to tell me that and talk to me more about him once visiting Lansing Michigan.

Fast forward to last Sunday. The symptoms are so horrendously, I mean astronomically bad, after much debating on whether or not to go waste my time again, I decide it’s best I head to the Emergency Room. The doctors there didn’t have many answers for me, except to tell me my hemoglobin is VERY low and that they would be transferring me to a different hospital that has an on-staff OB/GYN. So I’m transferred. It’s a good thing I went into the ER, because I ended up requiring four units of blood transfused! FOUR!! That would explain why I was so pale I was grey at one point. Heh.

So, after another CT Scan, Ultrasound, NUMEROUS lab blood tests, X-rays, ECGs, and a pelvic exam, I was FINALLY after months getting a diagnosis: “I’m sorry, you have cervical cancer. You’re going to need radiation and to fight for your life. I am so sorry.” Those words I will never forget. Ever.

What infuriates me so much, is that if the first 8 doctors had just done a simple test they could have caught what is relatively easy to cure, but instead their incompetence leaves me needing radiation, possible chemo and fighting for my life.

Now, I am DEFINITELY not one to ask for hand-outs, but some wonderful friends of mine took it upon themselves to start a fundraiser site for me, to help pay for what will be astronomical medical bills. I’m asking you, dear reader, to donate–even $5 could make a difference. Think of it as adding to your Good Karma well. The road for me will be long and trying, but with the love and support of my friends, family and even you, I know I can overcome this obstacle. Thank you now, and thank you in the future. ❤

Do you ever get the feeling that your constantly trying to get out of quicksand, but every inch you move just makes it harder to climb out?

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(Thank you, to Angry Black Lady for originally posting this video!)

“High school was difficult, coming out was painful,” he said. “I want to tell any teen who is watching this, life will get better.”

Canada is not awesome Edition

After posting my reasons as to why the French are jerks, some persons were a bit upset because I said the Canadian military is as intimidating as the French military, and she gave me a list of 15 reasons why Canada is awesome. I’m here once again to discredit that notion, while adding a few reasons why Canada is better than France and has a few awesome things.

Note: This is in no way an attack on said person or Canada; it’s merely a subjective list.

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10 Things I Hate and You Should Too, Edition

No. 8, You're cordially invited to a brick party

1. 3 o’clock in the morning: I’m usually up at this time and 3 o’clock is the world’s way of telling me I’m a degenerate. How you ask? Because that’s when any semblance of decent programming goes off the air and I’m stuck with infomercials about male enhancement pills and the Aerogarden.

2. The voice black comedians use when making fun of white people: Seriously, we don’t all talk like we wear Lacoste and play tennis, nor do we talk like our mothers breastfed us too long, cut it out. Thanks!

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As a follow-up to a former colleague’s popular ” French are asked to smile” post, I thought I would clarify things for everyone as to why the French (namely Parisians) are notoriously dickish and universally hated.

(Note: None of these can be confirmed nor denied. )

1. France is still pissed off because they have been irrelevant since 1940.

france

2. They are upset about always eating raw food.  Steak Tartarè, anyone?

2b) They are all hungry.

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