When you were young...

All my life I heard that I was beautiful. It began as a child with my mother's reverence for me...

"Your copper hair is gorgeous"...she had a way of making me feel so unique; special. And despite everything, the love from my father was palpable. I knew he adored me. And for all that, I am so grateful...

School, university, and theatre school lavished me and was no different. Overwhelming, to be certain, but this is not vanity...No, no, no...I don't believe in the 7 sins...

It's difficult to hear this all your life. It never made any sense to me. Especially here in L.A, with the most gorgeous women swarming the town...insecurities consumed me...

Beauty is confusing. I have always felt the most beautiful at my fittest and most "successful". When good health infused my body I always felt stunning, happy and amazing...Strong. Cool. Bold. Yet my heart holds more....Because of my friends' love, I have always found them to be the most beautiful creatures in my life. Beauty is internal; it comes from the heart, and they have it in spades...I pray I do the same for them...

And now I find my external "beauty" floating away from me; much like the winds; a breezy cloud...I feel weak, swelled, thin, "headache-y" and tired. Is this beauty? I am ashamed to admit I miss feeling pretty. I miss feeling strong. Most of all I miss looking in the mirror and seeing a lovely 40 year-old. All I see is my swelled face. Moon face, indeed. My conflictions confuse me. I hate my face; the sickness that has changed my body. I don't think I am beautiful at all. But in my heart, I don't believe my criticisms mean anything. Not anything at all...

My losses pain me. Losing your external beauty may be superficial; but it's a reflection of everything swarming my life...

So forgive me my sins. Any loss can be a burden of the heart.

Father Figure

My father died at age 38. I am 40.

He was riddled with diabetes, an alcoholic and there was speculation as to his drug abuse...

Hmmmm...the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree.

I recently read old letters of his. They were full of joie de vivre...spectacular and remarkable.

Connected, yes. Suffering both from chronic illness. Yet I am determined to beat this beast.

When I read his letters, I was amazed by our similarities...His address book a carbon copy of mine. Messy, jumbled and cluttered. And yet it filled me with joy. To have this connection with him...

It's been almost 30 years since he died. And I still miss him.

Do we ever forget those we love?

C'mon, C'mon...

It struck me that my last entry was rather heavy duty.

My times do weigh heavy upon my soul, but there's always room for a giggle....

And recently there smeared a smile from ear to ear upon my face...

Let me paint you a picture.

Age 40. Riddled with side effects. Moon face, skinny frame, finger fungus, inconsistent cycles and constant apathy.

Still, I found myself at the gym; determined and strong...

So mirage like, before me there appeared a vision.

He was Brad Pitt/Zac Efron like. (Hey, my husband rewinds Heidi Klum commercials).

Compliments abounded.

"You have a Renee Zellweger thing going. Looks good on you".

My heart soared...but that was before I remembered my favorite comedienne (Kathy Griffin) called her a puffy asian crack whore...

HMMMMMM.....

Moon River

This morning I went to Cedars and had an appointment with Dr. Dauer. I love him, adore him, respect him and I am completely indebted to him. My trust in him is implicit. Utterly. I can only pray that the ones I love will find a relationship like this if they ever find themselves mired by the complexities of chronic illness.

First do no harm. Harm? This man has soared above and beyond the medical oath. How lucky am I?

So here's the scoop, to keep you in the loop...

My hemoglobin was 9.7. Low normal is 12, so I needed an epogen shot to boost red blood cell production. Anemic, low iron; the cause of my exhaustion. My poor kidney just can't produce enough anymore.

My blood pressure was high 140/100. Terrible result. A sure sign I am losing ground with kidney function. As I have previously mentioned, this is the biggest destroyer of organs, and in particular a transplanted kidney. If I can't get this lowered with more exercise, I will surely need more blood pressure medication. SIGH.

I take 9 different medications twice a day now. 28 in total now that the antibiotics are finished.

Take that, you winers.

I finally saw Aunt Flow. The last time she visited my compromised shell of a body was Dec. 17th. Her absence a side effect of all these meds...It lasted about a minute, but hey, I'll take the brief feeling of normalcy.

I gained 8 lbs. from my last visit 3 weeks ago. I was terribly underweight then, but now I'm swollen. Heavy. Dragging. Dr. Dauer didn't think it was edema, but I can't get my wedding ring off, which usually hangs loosely on my finger-so something's up.

And my face. UGH. Moon face, indeed. Trying not to sink into vanity, I still loathe having my appearance altered. Especially through no fault of my own. Every glance in the mirror reminds me. And so, I just try not to look.

Expositional stuff to be sure. But this was the original intent of my blog; to keep those that want to know in the loop.

So there you have it. My noose that still swings across the room, and much too clearly in sight...