what makes meg smile (or sneer)

guess what this is? wait for it, wait for it.... insert major suspenseful drumroll... my 100th blog posting! wow, who knew i could talk this much (that was sarcasm.) so, this post started out as a slight twist on the ancient "pro vs. con" strategy of decision-making. don't get me wrong, i'm a huge fan of the pvc approach, mainly since it works universally... does it count as cheating if you're in another country? should i quit my job because my boss is the spawn of satan? which pink dress should i wear to church on sunday? would it be a good idea to join the hare krishnas that sing and dance outside the post office? (example: pro- shaved heads can be sexy; con- those buddha like wraps don't match any of my shoes.)

but as i began the exercise, it somehow morphed into a combination of a personal pep talk + major venting session, then strictly a list of things i hate. i've clearly had more than a few things to complain about lately, so i decided it was past time to shift my attitude. i L-O-V-E lists. i love using color-coded highlights, fine point sharpies, the smell of the ink as it blurs slightly on the smooth page, crossing off items with big, fat red markers, ... so, what follows is my "list of things meg has to be happy about". (a few of the things i hate sneaked in there.) in honor of my adoration of color coding, the things that piss me off are in RED (angry, rage filled RED) and things that are totally FIERCE will be in soothing, sunny yellow. this way, if i start to complain again, i can whip this baby out to read over and over til my temper tantrum passes. i heard a variation on the cliche "you can see the light at the end of the tunnel!"- "either that, or a train." that basically sums up the past few weeks. (the train part.)

XX. trash television. my mom always says she can tell if i'm in a lot of pain, or if i'm in a snappy, "leave me the hell alone" mood, based on my taste in tv viewing. the worst days are when i'm watching court tv shows- including, but not limited to- judge judy, divorce court (duh, i totally tivo'ed gary coleman and his red headed child bride to save it for one of my 10/10 pain level days), judge mathis, judge joe brown, and judge maria lopez (she is the master of sass, love her!)

XX. my summer 2008 travel lineup. if you payed attention in elementary school art class, you'll know why this heading is orange. (hint: primary colors anyone?) this is b/c certain elements fit the "shit list" AND the "smiles & sunshine" codes. since i haven't taken a vacation since my france trip in '06 (although trust me, that was definitely a yellow category!) i'm almost positive i'm experiencing travel withdrawal. yes, yes, i admit i have taken mini trips in the past year- joe/hodges sent for me over the holidays, i dropped in on the blaine fam for a few days, and of course there was the annual MLK wkend expedition to boston (aka sanity, wine & girlfriends- the perfect prescription). but here's the problem- i'm broke as a joke. in addition, vacations are incredibly stressful and spin me into anxiety mode which is a) unattractive and b) embarrassing (trust me, traveling with a cane and a wheelchair isn't as easy as it looks- and apparently airport screeners are convinced you have stashed a bomb in both.) but this year, this season of sweltering summer 08 brings a fix to this vacation jonesing.

mid june, joe is flying me to NC where we'll spend a week hitting up their favorite restaurants, watching some flicks, having our trademark HOURS of conversation, teaching joe some new element of technology (last trip it was how to upload photos from your digital camera on to your computer), getting private gourmet cooking lessons from chef hodges, and hopefully enticing elle or patina to drive down to GSO for a day or so. (i have the feeling that jack, the main man in my life, an elder, suave, experienced gentleman even has my bed all set up for the visit.)

end of june we are headed to california to see my older cuz ben get hitched at a vineyard in los gatos. this is dad's side of the family, who all live on the west coast (or nearby) and we do not get to visit with often, so i'm looking forward to reconnecting with everyone. not to mention when dad gets around his brothers- all their craziness emerges into utter insanity. it's hil-arrrrrr-ious.

but then there is the RED category of my summer travel lineup. my intentions were to give my cousin a gift she would always remember, a recognition of her graduating from high school. instead, i stumbled over a family history whose wounds haven't quite healed (or matured?) enough to make this happen. stupidly, i started a new generation of this family's silent civil war. i realize now that this... naiveté, this sense, this intense desire, to bring my family closer together. perhaps it's mere selfishness, an extension of how i don't want to end up alone. or maybe my experience with our family has driven me to want to create my own family, since i just need ot give up on ours. but i'd like to think i'm doing what my grandmother would have wanted, and the way i most recently chose to do that was how everyone starts off when they are pondering a gift for another... "what would i want if i was in her shoes?"

however, when you have to force yourself and your good intentions onto someone, the offer becomes tainted. instead of giving the red flag its proper due, i persisted, and i've wound up yet again with hurt feelings and a sense of loss. it saddens me. but, i just have to pick myself up, dust myself off and keep going. as we all know, dwelling just makes things worse. my preacher gave me a good piece of advice last week when he stopped by to discuss my upcoming semester of classes... "i am doing the best i can with the situation i have been given." most of us have a tendency to blame ourselves for things that are beyond our control, and this affirmation is a way of coping when this occurs.

XX. crystal lite's new flava flave... tangerine strawberry. utterly fabulous, and hides the gritty powder of glycolax cocktails. oh and did i mention lip smackin' delicious? you should probably go buy it now, esp considering the massive following across the world wide web of this blog. (there is subliminal marketing underneath these words.)

XX. improper cell phone usage. there are 2 places that are no place for a cell phone conversation- the gym, and the checkout registry. i mean, give me a break, there is no way you are that important. do you really need to bring your cell along as you spend 20 minutes on the elliptical machine? don't they have voice mail for that? you might THINK that you look cool b/c you can cycle and chat w/ no hands. but guess what? you look lame. and as far as calling your gyno while you're checking out @ the register- keep your converastions to yourself! you don't need to broadcast to the entire men's department of saks.

XX. no name. picture this: you're at the grocery store, and you see someone that looks familiar. you each give each other the peculiar glance for a few aisles, then it clicks. she's in your weekly yoga class, you're just not used to seeing her outside that environment. but damn, what IS her name... your friend beth is with you, which is a good thing b/c when you finally run into each other in the canned vegetable aisle, you can say "oh this is my friend mary" with that suggestive tone and hand gesture. but no, the yoga chick just smiles and says "nice to meet you!" HELLO you KNOW that is code for "introduce yourself you etiquette-less yogi!!!!!!"

XX. unexpected generosity. as most of you know, i began taking classes at BU this past semester (can you believe their spring semester ended last week?). i'm technically part of the graduate student dept, a distinction given automatically since i already have a BA from UNC, and am not working towards a further degree. i have really enjoyed this experience. and beyond that, it really gave me a much needed sense of purpose. (not to mention my recent class was on abnormal psychology, which definitely confirmed that you are all crazy. it's official, i am friends w/ a bunch of nutjobs.) even tho it can't be proven that the class has an impact on my physical health, it's a no-brainer that it can't hurt my mental and emotional well being. it gives me connection to the oustide world, something to focus on and become involved in, and most importantly, give my brain some much needed exercise. after all, i need to keep it sharp & fresh for when i make my big comeback.

even tho the fee to audit a class is SIGNIFICANTLY less than the cost of tuition, it's still almost $200- money that could, and should, be going to pay a more pressing bill (and most likely related to my healthcare). it was a disappointment to come to that realization, and then i began to panic. the thought of losing that outlet... immediately i shifted gears and tried to contact someone in the graduate program or dean's office that i could meet with. i thought if i shared my situation, and promised to pay the auditing fee back in a payment schedule, that somehow, someway taking a class this summer and fall could still happen.

well, it wasn't that easy, despite my persistence and charm (well, i thought i had charm. maybe that's not the case!) however, the generosity of others, in this case through my church, the funding has been provided and i will be able to continue taking a class each semester. this summer i will be taking intro to sociology & anthropology, which will be held on monday, tuesday, wednesday, thursday, friday.... um, yeah, every day. that should be interesting, considering some days i can't leave my bed. but i spoke with the professor and made sure he understood i wasn't being purposefully disrespectful of his knowledge o rhis time, and that i would do the best i could. so, game on.

XX. communicating electronically. avoiding awakward conversations by keeping the communication to email never ends well. trust me, i've had many an electronic misunderstanding and back/forth insults. in the end, it only leads to MORE unresolved issues and more awkward tension that will only end by having a real talk. in person. or on the phone, if like me, you lent your private jet to brangelina for their french birthing experience.

XX. JURY DUTY! yes, i meant to color code that as a yellow- i mean, this is big news! meg menzies morgensen is wanted as an integral part in our nation's judicial process in the booming metropolis of.... oh wait, i'm not in DC anymore. but hey, at least lewisburg wants me! when the majority of you receive that little slip of paper in the mail, your stomach drops to your feet and rolls around on the carpeting, spilling the contents of your intestines and colon. not fun, is it? but me? i almost did a jig! in fact, i would have if we hadn't JUST returned home from the MS Walk wkend in DC and i was a walking, swollen, zombie. i don't blame them for wanting me, i mean i'm practically the poster child for ideal juror. i mean, i have watched every episode of law & order, law & order SVU, and law & order criminal intent- i know my stuff. (i will prob be dismissed once they see the cane and my list of daily meds. oh well, a girl can dream.)

XX. DVR. so here's to you mr. high tech geek man who came up with this device when you had to make the difficult choice to watch saved by the bell: college years AND dawson's creek. steve pointed out that i am a fan of every show on television (on my facebook page) and i have to admit... he's right. i'm totally pathetic. but seriously, the world of DVR is like this dreamland of television viewing. when you throw HBO and extended cable into the mix- wow, the options are ENDLESS. i haven't had cable since i lived at home in 1997. and man, it has really upped its game during that decade. mad props to the media monsters!

XX. "how i met your mother"- the CBS monday night sitcom. whenever i watch the show i'm transported back to DC in the year 2004. we're all broke as a joke, everyone is taking their turn dating each other, we're all working way too many hours for a pathetic excuse of a paycheck, fetching coffees and pastries for morning meetings, and spending our weekends drinking boxed wine and 12 pks of millers lite. anyway, back to why i love "how i met..."- in a recent episode, marshall & lily were about 10 minutes away from losing their newly purchased apartment before they had even moved in (marshall had quit his high paying corporate sleazebag job in a crazy dramatic moral decision, and they couldn't come up with the money to pay their first mortgage.) ahh, friends...

slumber party at the PA bed/breakfast AKA morgensen household (elle, meg, dt & beau)

XX. reconnecting. a couple weeks ago i had a surprise email waiting in my inbox from a former client from my Bremmer & Goris days. she had recently spoken with julie, who is pretty much the rock star of B&G these days, and had subsequently gotten my contact info from her. (btw jules, does this mean you're giving out my info to anyone off the street? what a pal. remember they must have health insurance, straight teeth, and don't live with their mother.) anyway, i was so psyched to hear from her. kathy was not your typical client- she was a mentor to me, and a role model for women everywhere who try to have it all. i know that comes across as a bit over the top, but it's true. to be completely honest, i attribute some of the success i had in the industry itself, and future agencies, to her- at least before my career was cut a bit short. (sensitive subject w/ me.)

but there's another reason why kathy has a place in the exclusive meg memory stash, that exemplifies why i consider her a mentor and role model. let's revisit the year 2005, when i was project manager @ B&G- it was an exhausting year of (unsuccessfully) trying to hide my MS diagnosis from my coworkers and clients alike. the steroids had depleted my immune system, and i had picked up bronchitis which turned into pneumonia, and about 3 cases of strep throat during the whole ordeal. but no matter how many layers of makeup i put on each morning to hide my pale skin and sunken eyes, or how many times i plastered that auto smile across my face- i was finally forced to take more and more time off as the flareups increased in both intensity and frequency. one afternoon, i received a card from kathy and the timing couldn't have been better- it was during one of the worst episodes so far. she didn't ignore the hot pink elephant in the room, but she addressed it in a very considerate way. in a simple, direct manner, she let me know that she was thinking about me, missed working on projects together, and that she was there for me- if i wanted her to be. i'll never forget it.

XX. oprah's new show, the big give. i'm a huge oprah fan, so the fact that this rant is in RED is quite out of character for me. i feel so guilty, like i should throw myself at her feet and beg for mercy- i'm sorry oprah, i'm sorry!! the show is based on the whole "pay it forward" concept- loosely based on random acts of kindness to complete strangers. the show was hyped as spreading the idea of community service and the overuse of the phrase "... give big, or go home." but it couldn't be further from that promise, b/c what it all came down to was... money. shocking. but that wasn't the only reason the show left me with a bad taste in my mouth. (similar to that metallic steroid aftertaste) at the end of the day, it was just another competition. yeah, yeah, yeah... i get that the whole challenge was to see who could "give" the most, and isn't that a "healthy" and "positive" competition?

no, b/c there is no such thing as a healthy competition. and the contestants sure played their parts well... there wasn't any displays of teamwork, of collaboration, of respect. instead they all looked out for #1- definitely not a positive character trait in community service. i was really let down by this- i mean, hello, oprah pretty much is the rockstar of the 20th century! here she had the perfect platform to showcase the importance of giving back, showing real people get their hands dirty and change lives for the better, to get to the heart of peoples' hurt and hopes- to anyone & everyone.

instead, the big O had the contestants working the phones, from huge corporations to their own personal connections- and asking for money. where's the human interaction? that's what makes a difference to people, that's what people remember. not giving huge amounts of cash to people that have fatal cancer or 105 foster children and calling it a day. not that these people don't deserve help- they do. but so does everyone else. what about the elderly woman who can't mow her lawn? or the guy in your office that needs help with his taxes? what about your neighbor who needs someone to watch her son so she can make her 10pm shift? or the single father who needs to take his daughter shopping for a prom dress? would this not be giving big? because helping any one of these people with the mentioned small need will leave them with a big impression, i promise you that.

XX. dr. randy pausch and the last lecture. this has become something of a youtube inspirational sensation, and i decided to see what the big hype was about when he was on Primetime a few weeks ago. for those of you that have been living under a rock (or piles of job jackets), randy is a carnegie mellon professor who is dying of pancreatic cancer, and the way he has decided to handle this fatal blow has inspired millions of people already. CMU has an honor it bestows to professors who are leaving the university to pursue other employment or usually retirement, they call it "the last lecture". but in randy's case, the lecture truly is his last, as the doctors have given him only 3-6 mo to live. everything- the lecture itself, the primetime segment, the book he wrote... it's most definitely moving. but during his interview with diane sawyer, he said something that deeply resonated with me... "if i don't seem as depressed or morose as i should be, sorry to disappoint you... "

i don't usually fulfill peoples' expectations when they hear that i am so sick and that the MS is kicking my @$$. i'm not quite sure what they expected, but it's definitely not a girl wearing makeup, dressed in fashionable clothing, a smile on her face, laughing, photographs of this woman with friends, in social environments- outwardly, i'm the same person they always knew, and it becomes hard to accept otherwise, when what they are literally seeing isn't representative of the truth. but when i'm in the wheelchair, or struggling with my cane and the endless pavement in front of me, i can feel the way some people look at me differently. like i'm broken, or not as capable. it's hard for some to understand why i am in horrible amounts of pain but yet i still refuse to ride in the chair- i feel humiliated and embaressed by it. and it's b/c of these looks- these looks of pity and of curiosity. i appreciate the pep talks, but come on- we all think like that. and hopefully i will get over my insecurity, b/c i don't want to miss out on things b/c i physically cannot keep up with the rest of my world. but i can still do everything i used to do- i just have to do it differently. and yes, it may take longer, and yes, some days i may not be able to do it at all- i've just evolved, i've changed. it's goingt o happen to all of us at some point or another. so embrace it. and most of all, accept it. accept me.

XX. monday night's tv lineup. dancing with the stars, the bachelor, the hills (season 3)... now THAT is a triple threat. a few things i have to get out of my system. if you have no clue what i'm talking about just continue on to my next secret pleasure or pain. 1- audrina is a spineless, 2 faced b*otch- for letting heidi horrible use her (BLATANTLY!), going back to justin bobby (who looks even worse with short hair) and finally, playing innocent about her nude photos that are suddenly all over the internet. as far as the bachelor goes... do the producers just FIND girls that are psycho and fall in love with any male that gives them a passing glance? or maybe when you get in that first limo, they hypnotize you and put you through a "dumb blonde slut" chamber. one of the girls i myself have fallen in love with is shane. she is totally high maintenance and doesn't care- love that trait! plus she has my fashion sense- another trait that is nothin' but fab. but amanda? how many times does she need to say like in one sentence? expand your vocabulary sweetheart! dancing with the stars always leaves me with a twinge of sadness- i would love to learn how to ballroom dance. but at this point, i don't even know how that could be possible. i'm dizzy from turning my head quickly to watch a dog run by- i'd be passin' out more than marie osmond.

XX. baby boom!!! while of course i wouldn't renounce reproduction and encouraging the population of our future world, i DO just want to make it clear that we have reached capacity for babies this summer. if you were holding out the surprise guest until it happened then TOO BAD. hahah. but seriously, as more and more of you revealed your pregnancy status to me in the late fall, i began to tally how many little bare bottoms would be smacked in july. the number has reached SEVEN. SEVEN! what was there? some massive chain email that made halloween & thanksgiving national baby making holidays?!

XX. telemarketers. is there anything worse than telemarketers who somehow break through the national do not call registry to ring you up on a sunday morning? i didn't think so either. that is, until the primaries came to PA and the answer became LOUD & clear... CAMPAIGN telemarketers who call on sunday mornings. aaaaaaaaaaand sunday afternoons, and sunday nights, and monday mornings... need i continue? thankfully the vote is now over, and the less than minimum wage 20-somethings are shifting their dialing fingers to north carolina to enjoy some southern hospitality! yay!

to be continued...

remember, you can view these postings directly on kitkat chat's blog

http://meggerv2.blogspot.com/

cocktails

so the "cocktails" i refer to in this posting are nothing like the ones enjoyed in the early evening of the summer heat, as happy hour extends into hours... briefly i'll indulge my imagination, and picture that instead of the medicinally-concocted poison that fill my IV bags, there is a chilled pitcher of frozen lime margaritas with glasses pre coated with sugar coated rims. obviously a basket of chips would be on hand, and not just for their crisp & salty taste, but b/c they serve as perfect alcohol sponges during the very best post-work cocktails. eventually i might switch it up and order a mojito, a drink that i have not yet perfected in my own bar area, made best by an experienced bartender at the very best cuban cafe. oh, and those delicious brown sugar canes that double as stirs floating amidst the mint leaves...

enough about those pansy drinks, let's get to the point. the cocktails i am talking about are the real deal- hard core, delicately mixed, extremely potent, and most certainly mind-altering blend of solumedrol (steroids) and saline, little white tablets of zofran that serve to calm the raging nausea, neon orange circles of prescription antihistamine (atarax) so the ever present itching will lower to a functional minimum, and the all-too-familiar clear stickers filled with higher strengths of pre-packaged morphine. if you're already shaking your head, then you're on the right course. to be honest, my memory of the past week comes back only in brief chunks and pieces of lucidity.

by the way, this is as good a time as any for a disclaimer: if you received a package or note from me over the past week, forgive any forays into completely imaginary people, events, and places. for example, i reread a letter to my brother, and i had written the following... "the dinner party was lovely, there were 8 place settings." (um, what the hell was i talking about? did i host a dinner party without even knowing it? did i attend wearing only a towel & flip flops? who knows!)

the best way to describe how the past week has been like, or felt, would be to steer your gaze into a broken kaleidoscope- now, those contraptions are already distorted enough, so imagine how confusing a picture a broken, fragmented device would yield... and sometimes i am just tired. so, so tired. and not the "lead in my joints, sand poured into my bones" type of tired that i refer to from time to time... no, this is utter exhaustion felt from exiting one battle just to enter another, from heading into war after war, strapping on a complete set of well-chinked armour just to walk through a pale toned lobby and eventually called into the waiting sterile white room, coated in cheap white paper and flimsy pea green drapes that serve as room dividers. it's exhausting, it's draining, it's... pointless.

but if i stop, the ball drops with me. who is going to pick it up? not my parents, who are so emotionally invested that they can't see past how badly their only daughter is hurting, how much she is missing, how different her life is now from how they had pictured it. not my mother, who is forced to be my caregiver for even the most mundane of tasks, and chauffeurs me to appointment after appointment. the only time to herself is from 6-7am at BU's fitness center, and i'm sure her thoughts linger on my deteriorating physical condition. certainly not my younger brother- he's never shown any interest or concern in my battle with MS, or about the disease in general. as much as i try to attribute his words and actions (or lack thereof) to be a mere trait of his personality, it doesn't sooth the burning hurt of his ignorance.

not my friends, many of which are a 2 -stop bus trip at the very least, most requiring a cross-country journey on a 757. none of them are here to observe this limbo version of hell minute by minute, hour by hour. but realistically, how involved can they be when they only see through a keyhole of my life? truthfully, there is no one i hate enough to give such an obligation. (hell, i don't even want the job.) yes, they faithfully read my blog and send me letters and packages bursting with stories from their jam packed lives... my eyes scan the familiar handwriting, my thoughts lingering on their jet-setting adventures, engagement parties, football games, career advancements, wedding plans, baby preparations, even the mundane gossip that used to perk my interest. i force myself to smile as my lips trace over their thoughts, swallowing hard, attempting to force down the bitter taste of envy and jealousy that threatens to ruin the moment. did i ever really exist in that world? sometimes it seems so far away that i am convinced it must have merely been a dream.

which brings us to the medical professionals immersed in my drama. the nurses most certainly will fumble the pass... the blank faces who robotically jot down your vitals like they're copying down last week's local high school sporting scores. ("excuse me ma'am, i think you missed that i am suddenly 15 pounds lighter than my last experience with your scale a few weeks ago?"... head nod, head nod... )but they just go through the motions of "updating" my chart, as silent as a mute. "yes my name is meggie m morgensen, and my birthday is 9/1/80, and no i'm not allergic to any medications..." (educational nugget #1: this is standard hospital protocol for patient identification. you know, so they don't take out your kidney instead of checking your cholesterol.) what's my pain level? oh just a 10 on a scale of 10, same as the last 3 appointments. (no reaction.) sure, we can go through my medication list- yes, yes, ummm.... yep still on that, yes, yes, ehhhh, i think that dosage is down to 2/night... yep, yep, sure is, yes, ahhhh, yes it's the same. that's about it!

so let's go over the team of doctors themselves... neurologists, PA's, rheumatologists , internists, physiatrists, physical therapists, gastroenterologists... supposedly my internist is the all-star quarterback that creates individualized plays used exclusively for me, but it's more common to find me featured as the next journal of medicine cover in an undiagnosed parallel universe of immune system disorder case studies. i'm hyped as the undiscovered talent in the 3rd string, used as "elevator chatter" and are among the handful of "interesting" case patients brought up at monthly department meetings. (educational nugget #2- you never want to be an "interesting" case... i think i've dispensed that nugget of wisdom before.) sometimes i feel like i exist only to be traded back and forth throughout the entire AMA league. i should be given an MVP card for god's sake... hell, i should be awarded an honorary phD behind my name.

well, we've exhausted all possibilities- it's official, the ball ends with me and me alone. that realization is lonely and terrifying. i don't want to go through this alone. there, i've said it, i've admitted my weakness, my #1 insecurity... that i will go through the next 50 years fighting this battle on a solo mission.

ever since we returned from the DC MS Walk, the swelling in my feet have gotten increasingly worse. the skin is so stretched, so thin, that it appears almost translucent, causing major problems when attempting to wear shoes, especially ones that require laces or straps. (as much as i love my leopard print slippers, they're not exactly social attire). there is folklore around the existence of an "MS Itch", a symptom which is quite unusual, and rarely seen, even in specialized MS clinics and neurology centers scattered across the country. to be honest, even i was clueless that this was a symptom of MS. i had never complained to a doctor about my episodes of relentless itching, mainly out of the fear i'd be laughed from one corner of the exam room to the billing counter.

i remember the first exacerbation of the symptom... i was itching constantly, everywhere. i'd take 2-3 showers a day, thinking it was the heat that was triggering the irritation. i changed my bedsheets almost daily- even bought $80 of new moisturizers and makeup in case there was an allergic reaction occurring with my skin. i was positive that i had the first case of bedbug infestation in the dc metro area (obviously i had been influenced by a timely 60 minutes episode.) in the end, i decided that my cats (indoor cats, i remind you, who have been inside their ENTIRE 4 years of life) had become infected with fleas, leading me to drop $100 at target, to buy every flea medication on the market that promised everything from sterilizing your entire living area to coating your animals in preemptive measures of protection.

of course this "infestation" turned out to be purely an internal one- the first exacerbation of the infamous "ms itch." my neuro nurse practitioner in particular is fascinated by my condition- she had never met a patient who had actually experienced the symptom, she had only heard of it vaguely at various conferences and message boards of websites. (that's me, bringing confirmation to all wacked out immune system dysfunction patients everywhere!) it's pretty miserable, to be completely honest, as it's hard to get any sort of relief from the feeling of ants crawling underneath your skin. i've used entire bottles of benedryl gel, draped myself in cold packs (look to the left <-- hot, i know!), and taken benedryl 'til i was high as a kite.

of course, all of this internal hoopla has caused my pain levels to increase dramatically, completely unaffected by the increasing vicodin and percocet supplements. the trademark GI disturbances, esp my close friend nausea, have returned- a fact which isn't surprising when you think about the concept and context of pain itself. a nurse practitioner explained this to me once... when you're in massive amounts of pain, something that is hard to be observed from an outward, or 3rd party perspective, your body begins to convert the discomfort physically, and nausea is usually the number one outward symptom.

luckily the afore mentioned edema/infection had given me a slot in my internist's coveted schedule for last monday. i came with a huge stack of of dead trees containing research facts and alternative approaches to all of my symptoms, ready to bare it all and beg for her phD level care. however, after i had been taken through the winding hallways into the fluorescent lit exam room, the nurse left me with parting words of "Dr. IM2 will be in to see you shortly." wait a minute, who the hell is that? mom and i looked at each other- my reaction time is a bit delayed these days, but that comment had gotten my attention easily. (long story short- the scheduling office F'ed up. yep, that same old, tired "blame it on the receptionist" routine.)

dr. IM2 waltzes into the room (no introduction, mind you- and we had never met), talking a mile a minute with assurances that she is dr. weber's "partner" (exact words), her "right hand woman" (another direct quote) and that she had planned on becoming more "involved" with my care, especially for time sensitive appts like these when dr. weber was unavailable. i wasn't to worry, she has "complete authority" to make decisions on my treatment plans. (or at least that was how she phrased it. ) the next day, the pieces of the puzzle were made much more clearer. turns out, she isn't a doctor- she's a nurse practitioner. simmer down, simmer down... don't get me wrong- i have nothing against nurse practitioners, especially ones that have been so highly motivated to obtain a phD in their chosen field (and they can be quite helpful and accessible whereas getting in touch with your doctor requires an act of congress these days.)

but it would have been nice to have known up front who exactly she was and what role she could play in my care. the problem was that i felt completely mislead, totally betrayed, and on whole, taken advantage of. less than 12 hours before, this partner of hers had promised me the moon, the stars, and a little white picket fence. in fact, she had even gone so far as to compromise with me- bargained that if i made it through 1 week of increased morphine, she'd acquiesce by prescribing a 5-day solumedrol (1000mg prednisone, given via IV) to get me over this "little bump in the road." (i swear to god if i hear that phrase one more time i'm going to be forced to demonstrate, physically, that we are not dealing with a "bump" but a massive mountain of boulders. perhaps with some blunt force trauma- (by the way, that's educational nugget #3, a phrase i picked up from law & order.) the next morning, my internist has already emailed me contradicting dr. maani's parting words, and i felt (yet again) like 2 hours of my time, energy, and emotions had (yet again) been wasted.

i sat back to give some thought to all of the different treatments and therapies i have tried over the years. they are always administered with the placating phrase "let's just get you over this bump in the road...", and the afore-mentioned "bump" is blanketed with bowling-lane type bumpers of sublevel phrases... "be patient" and, of course, "stay positive." the thing is, most of those recommendations that have been brought to the table at one point or another, have come from my questions and adamant persistence. they're a direct output of my own research, my sought-after advice/counsel from other patients, my questioning of friends/family in the medical field, my attendance of disease-related conferences and speakers.

what's important to take into context is that i've always made it quite clear that i am NEVER tied to ANY of my own suggestions. in fact, i would prefer that the educated, credited, licensed docs make their own recs and treatment decisions. but due to a continual inaction, i feel like i have no choice but to forget ahead solo. my hands shaking, i spread the papers across my lap, my lips ready to perform the well-rehearsed pleas... would any of the following be options?

1. increase my morphine patch to 75 mcg/h to help curb the pain
2. (3) day boost of solumedrol (IV steroid infusion) to force my immune system to flip and work in my favor
3. spinal chord implant for the continuing pain
4. dieuretic/compression stockings for the edema
5. atarax, or another rx for the itching
6. deep brain stimulation for the relentless tremors (essential & orthostatic)

i finished my litany of requests and tried to wrap my trembling arms around my entire body to provide some support, the emotions literally streaming from my body- my shoulders haunched, my face pale, tears forming in the corners of my eyes. every position was uncomfortable, each tiny movement served as a reminder of the brutal discomfort the past few weeks had ravaged upon my body. the tears made good on their threat to overflow, and they began to fall in earnest. i laid down any sense of pride that remained, and bluntly pleaded with dr. IM1 to listen to me, to please help me, to make me a priority- not just a phenomenon.

usually the canned response to my suggestions involve a form of, "well, that's more of a last-resort type of approach." oh really? well then please, tell me what lies between here and there, in the endless stretch of vast complacency? (i do admit, the deep brain stimulation is a bit extreme, but should i really be limiting the options at this point?!) could that be doctor code to get around having to admit "...we really don't know what in the hell we're doing."? but would i prefer to hear that answer? would i prefer that these "gods" of modern medicine and cutting edge research are flat-out stumped by a case such as mine? is it that easy to make them give up? how would i really react if i heard the words, "we can't help you..." come from their mouths? on one hand it might be a relief, on another... well it might just reinforce the pervasive hopelessness. so who is to say which is the right choice.

but this is how dr. IM1 reacted. she got in my face, grabbed the sides of my arms, and looked straight into my tear-filled eyes. taking a deep breath, she said, "i am not going to leave you. i am not going to give up on you. you can say anything you want to me, and i won't get mad at you. you can be mad at me all you want, but i promise, i'm never going to stop being your doctor."

wow, right? and it wasn't an act- her eyes had filled with tears, too. there was that nagging voice in the back of my head whispering, "it's just another line, don't let your guard down, don't believe her...", but i wanted to believe her- i want to believe her now! isn't that what they teach us from preschool years on? you can always trust a doctor. if you're in trouble, look for a doctor, a policeman, or a fireman! (see, i was paying attention.) and then i began to feel it... amidst all confusion and physical chaos, a lingering weight began to lift gradually off my shoulders.

over the next 3 days, i was treated to first class steroid treatments in the internal medicine's clinical infusion room- a closet sized (but private) room complete with a flat screen tv, the new, mechanically-raised beds, and my favorite of all- the blood transfusion chairs that lean back like an old school recliner. (with my insomnia escalated to world record setting levels, that chair becomes my magic button to escape to the land of sleep.) before the IV team arrived to get a line in my arm, i was out. over the next 3 days, i got the best sleep during that hour of uninterrupted needle up my vein.

my case was handled by my favorite nurses, who are always thrilled when they get a patient that is younger than 80 (there are a lot of old people in PA!), and a wheelchair was always waiting for me as i stumbled into the main lobby (for an older gentleman wearing suspenders and highwaters, he was quite a big fan of my dangly earrings- weird, right?) my exit was planned like a broadway show- the yellow polo shirted volunteer would come to wheel me out to the pick up lane, where mom had hiked down the massive hill to reach the silver limo (otherwise known as my camry, carlisle, for those of you that aren't familiar with my nickname obsession.)

the strength of the steroids leaves you with a distinct metal taste that lingers in your mouth throughout the day, and more debilitating, a massive nausea that follows you around like your shadow. even though my state insurance refuses to pay for aloxi (an IV solution of strong anti nausea control that is given to cancer patients during chemo treatments), i am able to down zofran on a steady basis to curb the threats of vomit throughout the course of the day. another internal conflict is the fight between the hyperactive nerve cells (thanks to the solumedrol/steroids) and drowsy side effects of the atarax (the rx antihistamine to control the ms itch. )

it's now sunday, and without divulging too many personal details (come on, like i have any privacy people, you're reading my thoughts on the WORLD WIDE WEB!!)... sigh, sigh, SIGH. just take my word for it when i say the past 2 days have been emotionally stressful and physically draining. the highlight of the entire weekend was last night when dad fired up the grill (spring is officially here in central PA!) to make my favorite recipe of zucchini turkey burgers. he even topped it off with thinly sliced avocado- probably the first real meal i've had in over a week. (unfortunately it didn't come up as smoothly as it went down.)

in the meantime, i've been constantly on the verge of throwing up, or trying to ignore the hunger that haunts me everywhere. i've let phone calls go to voice mail, and took frequent naps that were passed in fitful, sweaty sleep of 2 hours at a time. i hallucinate, putting together words and actions that are completely unrelated, and have entire conversations in my head that never make it to my lips. most of this can be blamed on last week's cocktail combo. the standard steroid treatment for an MS exacerbation is 5 days of 1,000mg prednison IV, followed by oral prednisone tablets that taper down and eventually off- 500 mg/day, 250 mg/day, 100 mg/day, 50 mg/day... you get the pattern, i'm sure. i usually follow doctors' orders to the T (note, capital T at that), but after a standout disasterous mental episode stemming from the oral steroids, i have sworn off the 2nd part of the regimine. i'm damn stubborn about that decision, but I have a good reason why...

rewind 2 or 3 years. i had just finished another 5-day relapse cocktail, and was 1 day (4 tabs) into the oral tapers... one second i'm crying hysterically, a few short minutes later, i'm stoic or over the top bitchy to any comment within my peripheal audio realm (is that a real phrase??) i remember being on the phone with my mother, and saying, plain as day, "mom, i don't think i should go up on the roof today. i don't want to jump off." ok, hold the freakin' phone. where did that come from? it totally shocked me (and probably scared the living daylights out of my mother.) i wasn't even depressed, and suddenly i'm borderline suicidal??!!

besides, i loved port royal's rooftop- it was one of my favorite ways to escape a shitty day by grabbing a book, pouring a glass of pinot grigio, and throwing my well-worn purple blanket over my shoulder as i pressed 17 in the elevator shaft. i'd settle into one of the infamously uncomfortable patio chairs that were leftover from the rooftop pool of the '90s. the hours would pass easily into late evening and there i'd sit, still hypnotized by the tiny sailboats circling the buoys and the silver airplanes coasting onto the landing strip at DCA. there was no way i was going to ruin my favorite past time by jumping off the building. so that was the end of my oral taper participation.

but simply refusing the oral taper has its drawbacks too. if you don't manipulate your body into sloooooowly coming off the high concentration of steroids, you will experience withdrawal (think your basic textbook definition, or dramatization on law & order or baywatch. <-- just wanted to see if you were paying attention.) the effects can run the gammut of discomfort (weakness, dry mouth, nausea, etc.) but almost always includes a few days of intense vertigo, slightly reminiscent of those 2am post bar nights when the ceiling refuses to stop turning... but i'll take some dizziness over suicide and psychosis any day- wouldn't you?

so grab your friends and chime in for a loud, forceful toast (with real cocktails, that's for sure!)... here's to meg, in the hopes that she turns a corner very soon, and that she blasts that infamous "bump in the road" with a kilo of the strongest dynomite on the black market. and we will end this session with a timely reading from a very wise greek philosopher...

“Be patient and tough; someday this pain will be useful to you.” Aristotle (384-322 BC)

remember, you can view these postings directly on kit katchat's blog; http://meggerv2.blogspot.com/

what's up with me

i'm not sleeping well.

this is obvious by the fact that i am posting this at nearly 4am. when you can't sleep for the majority of the nighttime, there is ample opportunity for inner reflection. my non professional opinion of my recent insomnia flare has 2 plausible theories.

the first is medical, and somewhat boring- i am no longer on any medication that helps me sleep (ie ambien.) during my major insomnia period of 2006/07, i tried every prescription (and non prescription) drug on the market (and some that weren't.) memorable ones included chloral hydrate (which used to be given to women in insane asylums of the 19th century to knock them out, and most recently, small children who were terrified of MRIs and other minor medical procedure) and klonopin that gave me nightmares of cynthia nixon holding a knife in my bathroom. There was ambien, ambien CR, benedryl, hot milk, lunesta, restoril, klonopin, sonata, chamomile tea...

the second is more introspective, but i have settled on the theme of privacy. i've always been extremely independent (and incredibly stubborn)- but since my health collapse in late '06, i've been forced to be the complete opposite. i'm so dependent on others that i sometimes withdraw because i am so frustrated and angry. i'm used to living alone, and i covet my privacy. even though i'm living at home, with my parents, in a huge house, i technically can maintain my privacy. but my health has become such a family topic- it's used in every conversation, every reasoning, every decision, every excuse, every plan. sometimes i feel like my life is too much of an open book, and when this type of thinking starts, i get homesick for the life i used to live. at night, when everyone is asleep (even the cats- madeline is asleep on my lap as i try to type with half her body weight on one hand), i crave the solace, the peace, that being completely alone brings.

so there you have it, my non phD/MD diagnosis of this current flareup of insomnia. since i am currently trying to enjoy my privacy, i must ask you to leave. bonne nuit!

ms walk 08- washington dc & the cure crew

it's that time of year again! the famous (& growing) ms walk in washington dc, where the cure crew has been hard at work, dominating the annual event on all fronts. we want to grow into a triple threat, and not to be blatantly cocky, but i think we are well on the way. in '07, we were recognized as being the biggest fundraisers in the dc walk- this year we wanted to achieve that same distinction again but ALSO be the largest team. i was tempted to pull a tonya harding/’94 olympics maneuver, but turns out it wasn’t necessary. walkers came out in DROVES, even though the threat of rain was ominous.

meg with maggie & kelly; dave, julie & friend; lauren, wil, dave & mike; wes, liz & meg

in a team rally/pep talk email the day before the walk, i confessed that i had put in a request with the big man upstairs, but i wasn't confident of MVP status. coincidence or not, it turned out to be sunny, warm, and absolutely rain-free that saturday morning! (after the fact, dad made fun of my choice of prayers- of all the opportunities i had in the world, cure cancer, get rid of my MS, give dogs the ability to talk… i asked for GOOD WEATHER?! hahahah.) but i defend my request- i sure as hell don't like doing anything in the rain, and a few of our walkers might have melted in the moisture. hee hee.

we asked the cure crew to begin gathering around 8:30- we would take our team picture @ 9:00 and start the walk. kathryn staple-gunned (is that a verb?) our annual signage to wooden posts that dad propped up around the embassy steps. the event site itself, the canadian embassy & the john marshall park, was a perfect combination. in the heart of the city, with lots of room to spread out, and an easy to distinguish path- what more could you ask for? as 9:00 came closer, the steps were literally a sea of red shirts- such an awesome sight. this year, we were awarded "elite feet" status from the Society, which meant we were given our own "express lane" in the registration tent, in addition to other recognition (on signage, etc.) the walkers were all rocking bronze "elite feet" sticker status, a task i delegated to lauren, who did a fabulous job.


i had been looking forward to meeting caz jr., teresa & caz's son. t was my account supervisor at my first DC design agency, and she & caz were part of the walk in the cure crew's inaugural year, along with their boxer perry. caz jr. was born almost 2 years ago (wow, i remember looking @ the sonogram photos during one of our cheesecake factory dinners in tysons corner- it seems like last week!) but i had yet to officially meet him. t & caz had done a great job of coaching caz jr. on who i was, because he spent most of the morning pointing at me with an adorable, and slightly mischievous grin, shouting "meg!" with delight. (side note: if you see any advertisements for town of leesburg tourism- look for teresa & i as the "models" in some of the town photos... long story.)

most of the blaine family attended the walk- a huge surprise! elle had committed months ago, but at the last minute, we were able to convince her middle sister sarah to drive up (it was a team effort), and then her mother jean couldn’t stand to be left out of the excitement. her dad, jim, was already in town- he’s a board member on the national cherry blossom festival, making his presence required at events such as the well-known cherry blossom 10 miler that was scheduled for sunday morning. (i think the 3 mile MS walk was a helpful warm-up.) i created a sign for thomas (who is stationed in iraq) which i pinned to my sweatshirt with a canadian flag (some nice man had given me one with pity in his eyes at my pathetic state- grrrr, but i appreciated the flag, it came in handy!!). by the way, i made that sign at 3am, which is my excuse for the cheesy emotional message of how much we miss him & how proud we are of his service. it sounded better at the time. you might pick up on the fact that daniel is noticeably absent- the real story involves a pole, a pipe, and a stage name of buttercup. you probably need to ask him.

as the team was gathering on the embassy steps, i was able to introduce my kid brother mike to my ms buddy robert. we had met a couple years ago when elle’s mom jean had chauffered me to an infamous steroid IV treatment at my neurologist's infusion center. i wasn’t feeling well and was in a completely foul mood, but he struck up a conversation with me and made me laugh- something i had forgotten how to do at that point in my life. last summer, robert participated in bike ms, a 2 day ride that spanned washington, dc and through rural pa. he personally biked in honor/support of me, a gesture that continues to touch me to this day. my brother was very impressed/inspired by robert through that story, and he donated $100 (i think) to his efforts. for mike to do something like that, you know he made a connection. put it this way, we have been doing this walk for 4 years now, and he has never participated (until now). mike seemed to connect with robert in the whole cycling endeavor, and i think robert really changed mike's perspective of the motivation and dedication of someone battling this disease. or at least, i hope he did. robert & cynthia (his gorgeous wife, look to the left) are 2 people that i wish i could have spent more time with this weekend- every time i see robert, i discover another aspect of his personality that i love even more.


i have always gotten a kick out of our canine walkers, and this year did not disappoint. frank & savannah rocked matching canine doggy fanny packs. while savannah’s held practical items such as water bottles and dog treats, frank's was packed to the brim with his mom's cell phone, keys & wallet. i'm pretty sure he considered himself the mascot of the crew- he definitely could have bagged the "Mr. Popularity" award. (savannah belongs to dave- julie’s awesome boyfriend- and frank is the baby of my girlfriend (and ex-neighbor) candace from my port royal days. (look to the left.)

corralling a group of 20 is hard enough, so getting the attention of 75+ people called for the effort of mrs. elle talley. with dad leading the way, hoisting a cure crew sign high in the air, the mass of red shirts began moving towards the walk "start" line. during this madness, ashlee snapped the best photo of the cure crew we have ever taken- what a good lookin' crowd we are- dogs, babies & celebrities alike! looking at our team photo still gives me chills (see below.) it's a huge mash up of emotions- i feel so proud, and (i know this will sound weird) but so unbelievably LUCKY!!! the support of everyone that makes up our team (and that includes those of you at home who have donated money)... god, it means so much. it's hard to put into words how special i feel- and more than that, how safe i feel. to have the support of your friends is intense enough of a realization. to have the support of an entire city. the feeling is simply amazing.

holly gives meg a hug; tom & monica look like movie stars

unfortunately, i had dedicated too much energy to the night before to take part in the walk. i was so excited to be back in the city, and so thrilled to be spending that time with my friends, that i overdid it. i went to dinner at pesce with the blaine family (such a delicious treat), and for drinks at le bar with ML, joe cool, sarah, tom, monica & kate. i even stayed out until MIDNIGHT (insert gasp! here.) the temptations of good food & wine was too much for me to abstain, and i had eaten a couple gluten filled items (they were delicious, at least going down- definitely not later!) and drank 2 glasses of wine. (wait, how did that dirty martini slip in there?!)

sarah & meg @ pesce; that anonymous dirty martini; ML, elle & joe cool @ le bar

sarah, elle & i had a somewhat disturbing but absolutely hysterical slumber party

friday evening- it involved a vertical cot that had been added to the room in case kim decided to drive down from MD for the night. at some point elle wrapped herself in the bed runner and bounced on the king bed like a monkey. yeah.... fun times. none of this was well taken by my poor, beaten-down body. but hey, a girl's gotta live a little. and besides, it turned out to be my only opportunity to do so all weekend, so i would make the same decision if i had the choice again.

anyway, between the activity on friday night, and the existing swelling that had begun a month ago, my feel were the size of ripe melons on saturday morning, which made walking with the team not at all an option. i was disappointed, because i had wanted to try to walk 1 mile with everyone- i knew this was an unrealistic decision, but what would be the worst that could happen? i'd have to stop and catch a cab, not the end of the world. turns out that elle demanded i get in my wheelchair so i could do the walk with the team.

let me explain something... i have an insidious love/hate relationship with my wheelchair. i was extremely against purchasing the chair in the first place (technically, the state of PA purchased the chair on my behalf- thank you medical assistance). let's be honest, we all stare curiously at those in wheelchairs, or using canes, or pushing walkers. i think it's a natural reaction. but what i hate is the pity in the eyes of strangers. i know you shouldn't care what people think, and all that other rationalized methods of thinking, but when it comes down to it, and it's YOU that's in that chair, you want to do everything in your power to avoid it. on the other hand, i love that it gives me the opportunity to take part in things i would normally have to sit out (attending events, going to museums, getting to your connecting flight at the airport or through security). but mostly i hate it with a passion.

if you know elle, you know that you usually end up doing what she says after a tug of war with "no!" and "yes you will!" and "NO!" and eventually, "DAMMIT MEG SIT DOWN!"... long story short, i did the walk on my 4 wheels. (see the battle of wills to the left.) as we neared the finish line at the event site i didn't want anyone from the team to see me in the wheelchair, so i tried to subtly raise myself up and hobble to the finish line. (see the photo on the left.) i pretended that no one had seen me in the humiliating contraption, but i'm sure i was spotted. no one would believe that we were pushing elle for 3 miles!

that's me above, pretending i had walked over the finish line... elle, kim, meg & k8

the walk took us around the capitol, and in plain view of the blooming cherry blossoms

the route itself was absolutely PERFECT. the length was a little under 3 miles- much more do-able than the 7 miles of the past years. in addition, the touristy sites along the way were perfect- we walked around the capitol and had full view of the cherry blossoms that decorate the city. the volunteers along the route were full of energy and incredibly supportive. traffic was managed and stopped- no one was hit by any stray cars, hah hah. we caught up with sandra, her mother, and their friends halfway through the route, and shouted out encouragement as they took a break on the stone wall. sandra is always a major presence at the walk, and incredibly inspirational. despite all the challenges she faces physically, she ALWAYS finishes the route- whether it is 7 miles or 3. i know personally that it has to take its toll on her, but she rarely complains. definitely a memory i will always keep with me. we sang happy birthday to my little brother mike (he's not so little anymore- 6'5" and 25 years old!) as we neared the finish line, and fellow walkers and tourists joined the random singing.

post event, the june & charlie (team captain kate's parents) had taken over an area in the park to gather the crew together. june & charlie are among my sets of “second” families- we decided to plan a historical tourist adventure for the summer, meeting halfway in gettysburg. fun times, right?? parents & team mates brought cookies, cheese rolls, trail mix, and other goodies to refuel all our team mates.

in addition, we wanted to recognize 2 walkers who were spending their birthday weekend with us- karen's mother, peggy, an original cure crew teammate, and my kid brother, mike, who had taken time out of his busy phD schedule @ nc state to make the event. i had made chocolate cupcakes to "surprise" them with (they looked better the night before), and karen and kate struggled to light the candles in the ever increasing wind. lori had tracked down the lighter from cops loitering around the park entrance- we took them cupcakes as a thank you gesture, but get this- they declined our offer! have they ever heard of etiquette? you always take a cupcake from a gimp with a cane and a hot brunette in a sassy red shirt. come on guys, get with the program!

2008 Cure Crew @ MS Walk, Washington, DC

stats, as of 4.05.08:
$ raised: $20,860 (donations will be accepted until 5.31!)
cure crew walkers: 76+
out of town walkers: 20+ (it was basically "parents weekend 2008")
ms cure crew walkers: 5 (meg, robert, sandra, stacie, yolanda) <-- they all finished the course!!

the benton family (fran); meg w/karen & mom peggy; meg w/charlie (kate's dad)

after the walk, as the team was piling up their ms walk gear and headed back to the metro or parked cars, a woman came up to us, introducing herself and talking about her husband's (alex houston) recent documentary. the film is called "swim lessons: the nick irons story." nick is a man whose love and admiration of his father drove him to desperate measures- he chose to swim the entire length of the mississippi river- 1500 miles- to raise awareness of MS, and to inspire complete strangers to get involved to end this devastating disease. i have to tell you- his passion really moved me. what a breathtaking adventure to embark upon- and what gives it that "kick in the gut" feeling is that he did it for someone he loves. the action of 1 person can touch the lives of hundreds, thousands of others.

the trailer can be found on youtube, but don't just stop there. the only way this film can make a difference is if it gets national exposure- alex & his team have submitted the film to a national documentary film festival. (keep in mind this conversation was had after i was wheeled around the city for 3 miles and tried to interact with all 76 people on our team... my brain wasn't so fresh.) i can't remember the name of it, but i remember the statistic- over 2,000 films have been submitted, and 8 are chosen. EIGHT. so watch the trailer, share it with your friends, and if it really moves you, if you feel the passion that nick irons shared with us all on his mission, contact the man below with your endorsement of the film…

sky sitney @ silverdocs (director of programming)
AFI silver theatre
8633 colesville road
silver spring, md, 20910

unfortunately, less than 24 hours after my arrival in the city, my weekend trip ended at 10:30 on saturday morning. when we got back to the hotel, I stumbled into the room and collapsed on the bed, where i stayed curled up in the fetus position the remainder of the weekend. (i vaguely remembered making a hot chai in the hotel lobby, but i awoke to a full styrofoam cup of cold tea on the nightstand.) apparently a lot of action went down while i was passed out... kim drove back to MD, elle did the dc-arlington dance a couple times, sarah packed up her bags and headed back to nc, ML & joe cool downed some brews, scottie & sheila walked around the city, kate & her parents took in a late lunch and a movie, mom & dad explored the neighborhood… and then there was me, sleeping away the day.

dad with mccain; what a sassy vespa; mom with obama (oh, a house divided!)

i awoke 7 missed calls later, and was craving margaritas & guacamole. since it was 4pm, i didn't think getting into rosa mexicana, 1 block away, would be that much of a wait. i was craving some of their trademark table-side guacamole action… mmm, i can taste it now. my daydream didn’t turn out quite as planned. the city was chock full of activities (aka tourists)- besides the cherry blossom festival, it was the last capitols came of the season, so the wait was 1.5 hours- that's ridiculous, even when there is a bar available that makes delicious mojitos. on a last ditch effort, dad scrambled for seats downstairs @ gordon biersch, where i made it through 30 minutes of yummy seasonal ale before faceplanting into my stir fry.

by the way, bad decision on the menu choice- soy sauce has gluten in it! the evil, dreaded, must be avoided gluten...duh! after an entire YEAR of discovering my gluten allergy, i had to make a self sacrificing choice like that?! augh. elle encouraged me to go take a nap before we headed over to tom & monica’s dupont circle apt to catch the unc game. a good plan, but with one fatal flaw… i never woke up. (and my outfit was cute, damnit! i was even rockin’ the skinny jeans!) dad was a trooper and stayed in the room to watch the game with his comatose daughter, and i awoke to him screaming at the television with 2 minutes left- apparently i picked a good game to sleep through. (i just hope we can keep tyler so we have a shot @ a national championship next year! come on tyler, don't you want it? now if we can get billy packer fired, all would be right with the world.)

anyway... between the poor food choices, my swollen watermelon feet, pain pills and extreme fatigue, I don’t remember much of the remainder of the weekend. i was able to fit in a trip to lisa on friday afternoon, the best physical therapist in the dc metro area (healing works in arlington), a quick shopping trip at my favorite trader joe's in alexandria, and deliver flowers to the best hairstylist in town- erin at sugarhouse in alexandria. on the way back to PA on sunday, we made a mandatory stop @ the rockville, MD whole foods (no offense if you happen to live in MD, but I just have one word.... WHY?!?!?!?!) where we hit the jackpot in gluten-free, dairy-free delicacies... cookies, pizza crust, muffins, scones... you know i'm desperate if i'm including MD in my travels.

meg @ trader joe's (love the 2 level carts!); meg & lisa post PT ; meg @ sugarhouse after flower delivery

yolanda stopped by for our annual hug on her way out, and her parting words were, “next year we gotta be even bigger.” the statement momentarily stunned me- how can we pull off an even more successful walk than this year’s? but i know it’s possible- our support is amazing, and i'm excited to be a part of the movement. i hope our story inspires you.

by the way, i have received emails from many of you asking if you can still donate to the crew & the dc chapter of the ms Society. the answer is YES! follow this link to be taken to the cure crew's personal web page, and you will find directions on how to donate to our team. the society will accept donations up until MAY 31st, so you have plenty of time to help fund life-saving research and programs to help those with MS!

team captains kate & karen, with ashlee from the Society, and walker lauren