That's what you get for scaring me you little brat! But, I'm sorry...

I just had a very intense moment in the stairwell of my building that has left me feeling bad but justified at the same time. I don't really know why I continue to take the stairs when I have a propensity to fall, so I take some partial blame for even being in the stairwell. However, this time I did not fall, I beat up a kid accidentally!

So, the stairwell is equipped with those automatic sensor lights that are supposed to turn on when it detects motion. Well, they must be on the fritz, because when I walked into the stairwell starting on the 3rd floor it was pitch black. I was going down the stairs to the lowest level to get to my car in the garage. So, it only got darker as I descended.

As I was rounding one level to the next, someone jumped out of the shadows behind me and made a screaming sound. Now, if you know my history with my stalker, you'll know that this instantly terrified me and I thought for sure it was him (since he was released from jail last month). It was my natural reaction to defend myself and I instantly turned and kneed the person and then tasered him (yes, I have a taser that I got for self-defense and of course I bring it with me going to the garage!). It was still really dark, but I was quickly realizing the slight outline of the person I just kneed really hard and tasered was that of a very small person. Then I heard sobbing. I wasn't sure what to do, as it was becoming quite clear this person wasn't my stalker, but I still didn't know who it was or why they were screaming at me in a dark stairwell. The only thing I could think to do was to go up to the next level and see if I could prop the door open to get some light in. The only thing I had to wedge in the door was my flip flops, so I did that (leaving me barefoot...ew). Once I got the door open and went back down to see what I could see, I realized it was a small child. Here is where I feel bad. I just beat and tasered a child. It was not intentional and he shouldn't have been in a stairwell scaring people like that! He had crumpled himself up in somewhat of a fetal position against the wall and wouldn't stop crying.

I asked him if he lived there and where, so I could go get his parents or someone to help him. He sniffed a little and said "no, I'll get in trouble". I told him if he was hurt, he needed the help of his parents. Then it gets worse. He said "I peed my pants and I don't want my dad to know." Ugh, feeling really low at this point. He finally squeaked out what unit he lived in and I went to get him help. Luckily, his mom answered the door and I talked to her in the hallway and she came alone to get him. So, at least he didn't have to face his dad with the wet pants.

I feel bad about the fact he was a kid and wet himself, but maybe this will teach him a lesson that you just can't do that! There are some people that may have shot him, stabbed him, or something much worse than tasering him.

This is why I will never have children. They are not worth the trouble they cause!! Ok, well maybe they are, but not for me!

Random Acts of Debbie asks that you take a moment and comment, good or bad, I welcome it all!

It's true...you never forget how to ride a bike, but....

Was it always this dangerous?!? When I was younger, one of my favorite activities was riding my bike. Granted, I never really got to go far with it. I think the furthest my mom let us ride our bikes was to the Beavercreek Store (it was this little store about 2 miles from my house), but every bike ride seemed like an adventure to me!

Recently, I traded in the spin bike at the gym for some good old fashioned regular biking again. Mostly, because I acquired a bike when my friend Charlie moved away and gave me his! This was probably the best and the worst thing to happen to me....because soon came the many bike misadventures that have led me to my home away from home - urgent care.

Now, I remember the occasional spill as a kid on my bike. A few scraped knees and elbows and some minor head injuries, but I never remember near death experiences! The worst I can remember was once coming home from the dentist with my mouth all numb and drooly from a filling and I was riding my bike and hit the breaks to avoid our dog (Ruffles) and I slid in some gravel. The gravel was the little pebbly kind and it embedded into my knee. My mom had to use tweezers to get the gravel bits out. In hindsight, she probably should have taken me to the doctor to get that cleaned up. I still have a little oval scar from that. Again, it was no near death experience.

Now fast forward to my adult bike riding adventures in San Diego....and the craziness begins! I don't know if it's because I'm rusty on the bike or if it's the city streets I'm not used to, but every bike excursion (which is daily) seems to end in some "incident" that is much more than some gravel bits in the knee.

First was the hammer dropping on my head, which really wasn't an issue with my biking skill, and more related to my unfortunate luck. My first couple rides were nice. I remembered what it was like as a kid and the old adage was true "you never forget how to ride a bike." My confidence may have been prematurely high. On about my third bike ride, I ventured a little further out into unknown territory. I wasn't quite comfortable riding on all the streets yet, so I stuck to the sidewalks. I was biking along feeling all happy and then WHAM! It happened so fast, I was laying there a little scraped and stunned, and wasn't really sure what just occurred. Then I looked down at the sidewalk, which was anything but flat...and realized I ran into a very raised portion of the sidewalk and flipped right off my bike. That's when I learned lesson #1 - pay attention to where I'm riding! That crash didn't really send me to urgent care though, I self diagnosed and tended to my own wounds :)

After that I got a little bolder and decided I really should be riding on the streets. That and people were always yelling at me for being on the sidewalk, apparently it is bad bike etiquette. So, I went on a ride to the mall. I actually had done the ride a couple times before, but usually during the week when it was uneventful (not a lot of people on the road) and both times had been via the sidewalk. This time I was riding on the street like I was supposed to, I guess. However, there was some kind of convention going on and there were cars in droves and people everywhere. This one Jeep was creeping up on me as I rode along and clearly was trying to send me the message he did not want me on the road and was going to do what he could to get me off of it. I was feeling really uncomfortable with him approaching me the way he was, so I went to get off the street and back onto the sidewalk. Somehow as I went to go on the sidewalk I managed to line my front tire up parallel to the lip on the driveway I was riding onto and it was just enough to fling me over and slam me onto the concrete, with the bike landing on top of me. As I landed my head hit hard on the concrete, but thankfully I had my helmet on. My elbow was bleeding a little and my leg hurt, but it seemed I had survived with minimal injury...or so I thought. I had been on my way to the movie theater, so I continued since I thought I was ok. As I was sitting watching the movie, my leg was hurting more and more, and I could see it swelling before my eyes. The bike ride home was unbearable. By the time I got home my leg was twice the size it should be and every part of my body hurt. Plus, I was visibly crooked. My right side was actually a few inches forward of my left. When I went to the chiropractor, she told me she had seen people in horrific car accidents that were in better shape. It took some time to heal from that one! Lesson #2 - approach sidewalks head on or stay off entirely!

I could write an entire novel about the incidents I've had, but in summary I've had a bird fly in my face and cause me to crash, I've hit a tree limb that knocked me right off the bike, I've passed out on the bike and rode right into a building, I got my jacket (tied around my waste) caught in the tire and flung off the rear of the bike, I've been hit by a car, I hit a car.....and those are the highlights of about the first month of biking.

I think the most embarrassing of the incidents was riding into a persons car door. I was riding along 6th street heading into Hillcrest and I was riding on the street, because that section of sidewalk is too small to handle bicyclist and pedestrians. I had always kind of feared someone might open their door in my path, but I hadn't seen it happen to anyone else, so I figured I was safe. The problem is that the street is fairly narrow, so as a rider you try to stay pretty close to the parked cars so you are not impeding traffic, but then that puts you at risk if someone does happen to open their door and not see you you coming. That's what happened to me! That section of road is actually downhill, so I was going a pretty decent speed. I always look to see if there are break lights or any signs someone may have just parked, and I didn't observe that in this case. I think the guy had been sitting in his car for a bit. Anyway, as I approached the door opened and I was right in the path to hit it and couldn't swerve out because there was a oncoming car right along my side that would have hit me if I swerved. So, I ended up slamming right into the guys car door. I actually didn't really get that hurt. Yes, I did crash the bike, but I think I had some magic fairy dust that day, because I managed to land well...that never happens! I thought the guy would be concerned about me, but he was just really pissed. It wasn't my fault though, that is a designated bike area and he should have been looking! At leas that's what the cop said :) Lesson #3 - keep my distance from parked cars!

Until recently, the only accident that caused me severe injury was the "curb" incident. However, in true Debbie fashion, I had to outdo myself and go for the gold. The other night I was riding home from a long ride and I was on the street not the sidewalk. There were cars parked all along me on the right side and then on the other side of the cars was sidewalk, so I didn't have visibility really to what was happening on the sidewalk side of things. As I biked along, all of a sudden this other bike came out of nowhere in between two cars coming off the sidewalk and jumping out in front of me cutting me off. I had no time to divert and crashed right into him. I landed in such an odd way (of course!) that my leg actually landed on the pedal of his bicycle and the pedal embedded itself into my upper leg. It was in there so deep, everyone said not to even try to pull it out, because I could start bleeding out. It hurt so bad! One of the bystanders that saw what happened called the police and the EMT's. They had to pry the bike pedal out of my leg and then they wrapped my leg up and I went to urgent care. I had to get stitches, about 15 of them (not so bad). Of course, being as stubborn as I am, I didn't listen to the doctors orders of not riding my bike for at least a week or two and went out the very next day. I popped a stitch...oops! Although, I think it was a good thing, because after they fixed me back up and I went home my wound was throbbing and burning, which I didn't think was normal. I returned to urgent care (my 3rd visit in 3 days...a record!) and found out that a piece of the bike pedal had actually broken off in my leg and the doctors stitched over it. So, maybe popping the stitch was the best thing I could have done :) Lesson #4 - be a defensive rider!

So, needless to say, it has been very adventurous on the bike thus far, and I've only had it for about 4 months or less. Yes, all these things happened in 4 months!! Nothing keeps me from getting right back in the saddle though. I do have trauma every time I get on the bike, I see visions of me crashing, I fear doors opening, and now I'm always looking in all directions just waiting for that random pop-out...which makes me lose my concentration and crash anyway. Despite the trauma, there is no greater feeling than coasting down a long hill with the wind in my face or pushing myself to get up a steep hill and feeling very accomplished when I get to the top. I love my bike and even though it has caused me pain and suffering, I will never abandon it!

I am hoping to enhance it soon with a bell, basket, and side view mirrors! It'll be very "special".

This post is dedicated to Charlie, for whom I owe all my many bike adventures, and without whom I would have never become the mayor of Kaiser Vandever Medical Offices (urgent care). Thank you, Charlie!

Happy riding!

Random Acts of Debbie asks that you take a moment and comment, good or bad, I welcome it all!

Well hello beautiful...oh wait, that's me!

There was once a time when I would pass by a window or a mirror and catch my reflection and my immediate reaction was to sink my head in depression and immediately turn away so I no longer had to face the reality of what I was seeing. It seemed to occur to me most when I saw my reflection just how "disgusting" I was or felt. It was the same when I saw my shadow. It was like ghostbusters when you see the shadow of the Stay Puft Marshmallow Man coming upon you.

Even after I lost weight I still couldn't see my new self, I continued to see the fat girl I always saw. People would compliment me all the time and tell me I looked great, but I would just grin and say "yeah right", because I didn't see it. It didn't matter that my clothes size was going down, my mental image of myself was still that of the fat girl I always new myself to be. It was like that movie Shallow Hal only in reverse. Everyone else could see me as thinner, but that's not what I saw.

Over the last year I've been focusing less on the physical changes and more on my mental changes of adapting to what really is a new life for me. I've started to embrace my new image and with that has come a new attitude.

Although, I may have swung too far in the other direction, because now I think I look at myself too much and enjoy my reflection a little more than I should. I may be a little vain...lol. Seriously, the other day I was walking past a Peet's Coffee shop and I caught my reflection in the window. Somehow, it escaped me that I was standing in front of the window of a Peet's, all I saw was my reflection and I liked it. I stopped for a moment and kind of admired myself and after a few minutes of doing this, I realized where I was standing, and I realized the patrons of Peet's sitting on the other side of the window laughing at my retardation. Although, embarrassing, I had to laugh at myself.

I also enjoy seeing my shadow these days too. I look down at it as I walk and I think "is that really me?"..."where's the rest of it?!" It's nice, because it's really starting to kick in what I've accomplished and I'm finally starting to enjoy it. I've even discovered a new love of clothing. There was once a time I hated the idea of buying clothes and never gave a crap about fashion or looking good. Now, I love to shop (maybe that's a bad thing) and I love thinking about all the cute ways I can pair and match different things. I even discovered I love dresses and skirts! If you know me, you will know that's a big deal!

So, now when I see my reflection or pass by a mirror my reaction isn't to sink my head and run away, it's to say "hello beautiful!", smile, hold my head up, and walk away happy :)

Random Acts of Debbie asks that you take a moment and comment, good or bad, I welcome it all!

Return to urgent care!

It had been several months I was a away from urgent care, which had been close to a daily habit for me. Since being unemployed and uninsured I have missed out on the place that had once been a home away from home. I often thought of the nurses, doctors, and regulars (patients) that had become like an extended family. I missed their happy faces when they would see me come in to check-in, I miss the excitement they would get waiting to find out what injury I had sustained, and the looks on the doctors faces when I would tell them what happened "this time". I was sad to think that they would watch the hall and wait in anticipation for me to round the corner only to be disappointed each time. I never got to say goodbye.

It was a bittersweet moment when I entered through the doors of the Vandever Medical Offices a couple of days ago, newly insured under COBRA, and with a build up of ailments an injuries. Yes, I was actually excited to be back and couldn't wait to get up to the 4th floor to see if any of my familiar friends were there! I'm not a junkie and I'm not pathetic and sad, just because I take enjoyment in going to urgent care. The enjoyment is in the reaction of the people I meet and the stories I pass along to them, that I can only hope they share with others!

As I walked off the elevator and rounded the corner towards the nurse's check-in station I saw a familiar face and when her eyes made contact with me she lit up like a Christmas tree :) She was my favorite nurse and the one that checked me in most often. She was beaming with excitement as I approached the desk and she shouted out with glee "you're back!" She came out from behind the desk and gave me a big hug. She said they had all been so worried about what might have happened to me. They had all come up with various stories of what it might of been - some horrific accident they assumed. They imagined I had died or was in a coma in some hospital somewhere. She told me that for at least a month or more they had a pool going on when I would be back in, but after a couple months had passed, they gave up hope.

As I sat patiently in the waiting room to see what doctor I was going to get, I noticed another familiar face. It was the old guy that was an urgent care regular and never liked me. He was the one I've written about before with the cane and the disgruntled looks. He always hated it because he thought I got preferential treatment and they would call me back first. He noticed me too and gave me the stink eye. I had visions of him taking his cane and whacking me with it. I secretly hoped they would call me back first, just to see the expression on his face! It was my lucky day, because just as I thought that, the door opened and they said "Debra?". As I got up to walk back there, he sneered at me and shook his cane a little. A slight grin overcame me as I strolled by him :)

When they took my vitals and sent me back into one of the open rooms, I sat in anticipation waiting for the doctor to walk through. I was hoping it was going to be one of my favorites, but was pretty much excited to see any of them. The door opened and it was an unfamiliar face, which was not necessarily bad. I always liked to break in a newbie. He introduced himself and I said "you haven't been in urgent care for long, have you?" to which he replied "only a couple of months, how did you know?". I told him he just needed to glance at my chart to understand. There it was....that shocked and surprised look whenever a newbie saw my history of urgent care visits and my wide array of mishaps and illnesses. I loved that look! I just smiled and I said "I'm pretty much a regular here, but I've been away for a few months. I knew you couldn't have been here much longer than that!" He laughed and said "dare I ask what it is this time?" I liked his sense of humor. He could be a new favorite.

I explained my bike crash and injuries and he was much more thorough than my other urgent care docs. I think this is the beginning of something wonderful!

For the second time this week (the first week of really having my insurance back mind you) I went to urgent care because I was dizzy and passing out all the time. I was excited to see another nurse that I hadn't seen in quite some time and she too was overjoyed to see me! She was sure I was dead too! I got another hug and got to see my new and promising urgent care doc again.

It feels good to have my urgent care back again. Vandever is my home away from home, and if I ever have to leave it again, it will be with a heavy heart and proper goodbyes!

I'm back!!

Random Acts of Debbie asks that you take a moment and comment, good or bad, I welcome it all!

Please don't sit next to me!!

Have you ever boarded a plane and looked at the passengers already seated staring at you in fear that you have the seat next to them? I used to get that look every time I flew. I dreaded that look. Sometimes it would happen before we even boarded the plane. I would approach the gate and await the announcement that they were boarding my seating area and I would glance around and see people looking at me with that "oh please don't let her be sitting next to me" look. Wanting to avoid seeing that look, I would stay close to the gate doorway and the minute my seating area was called I would get on the plane, so I could be seated before having to see the dread as I approached.

Not only did I board the plane as early as possible to avoid the dreaded look, but I had to in order to make sure I could get the seat belt on before too many people were near me and seeing me struggle to get it around me and get it to click. I never knew with each flight if it would fit or not. Some planes had more ample seat belts and some had slightly tighter fits. I always requested the window seat, so that I if the seat belt didn't fit, I had a better chance of hiding it from the flight attendant. I was too ashamed to ever ask for the extender. Some flights, I had to suck it in so tight to get the belt around me, that I couldn't breathe for most of the takeoff and landing. As soon as that seat belt light went off, I would take it off and gasp for air.

I always spilled over to the seat next to me and I genuinely did feel bad that the person in the middle seat had to endure my legs and arms squeezing into their already tight space. On more than one occasion the person sitting next to me requested to be reseated and was not bashful in stating the reason why to the whole plane. I had heard Southwest wouldn't let you on the plane if you spilled into another seat, unless you purchased a second seat. That's why I never flew Southwest. I always feared other airlines would follow suit.

Once on the plane, even in the areas with extra leg room, I couldn't cross my legs. I could never get comfortable. The tray table would never come down the whole way and I would either have to bring it down and let it rest on my stomach and then hold it steady with my arms on it, or I would be able to get it down and then kind of rest my stomach on top, which kept it down. It was embarrassing to say the least. Back in the day when they actually served food, it was hard to fit the food tray in front of me. I would pray that the person in front of me wouldn't put their seat back, because once that happened, the tray table was "out of service" for me.

Don't even get me started on the airplane bathrooms. I would always get to the airport plenty early so I could use the restroom as many times as possible before boarding the plane. Getting into the bathroom on the plane and attempting to use it was a joke! This is not a common worry for most, but it was one of my biggest fears, to the point I wouldn't drink any beverages or eat anything on longer flights. Still, there were a couple of times I couldn't hold it and I had to endure the humiliation. It was like a skit right out of Saturday Night Live usually.

Flying wasn't really enjoyable, I had so many worries and concerns, and it was so uncomfortable. I think that's why I didn't travel very much for the longest time. I just didn't want to go through all of that each time.

The first time I flew after losing some weight, I still couldn't cross my legs, but the seat belt went across me and clicked without having to suck it in and there was even a little slack! The tray table came down with enough room to get at least a finger or two in between the table and my stomach. That alone was amazing to me! I did still spill over a little to the other seat, but not nearly as much as before.

As I continued to lose more weight, each flight I took was a little different. The seat belt slack became more and more, the space between me and the tray table was becoming ample, and I got less and less of the dreaded looks that made me feel so bad. The first time I was able to cross my legs on the plane, I nearly screamed out a hallelujah!

This last trip, it finally hit me how different flying was for me. I never hurry to board the plane anymore. Nobody even gives me a second look (unless it is one of interest of course!). People seated next to me spark up conversations with me and don't look at me with disgust. I can cross my legs easily and have ample room left. I have to pull the tray table towards me now, because it is too far away...and the seat belt buckles right in the middle! Lots of slack! When I flew to Australia, I was able to lay across a row of 3 seats and actually sleep and still have enough slack on the seat belt to keep it fastened while I was laying down and asleep!

I actually enjoy flying now. It's a comfortable and happy experience. It's these little things that still amaze me as I'm getting used to being a new me! I can sympathize now when I fly with larger passengers and what they are going through. I definitely do not give them the dreaded look! I know it's not the most comfortable experience, but keep this in mind when you fly, and try to be a little kinder about the spill-over :)

Random Acts of Debbie asks that you take a moment and comment, good or bad, I welcome it all!

boomerang, balls, and hammers...oh my!

I often wonder how many times I can hit my head or be hit in the head before I will suffer permanent damage. Then again, maybe I already have?! The average person doesn't have to worry about hammers falling from the sky, rubber balls blazing through the air, or boomerangs with precision return...but no one ever said I was average.

If you can believe it, all three of these things happened to me in the course of two weeks and on two continents! Many have joked with me that I should walk around with a helmet on permanently, and I'm beginning to think maybe that makes a lot of sense. Sure, I might be classified as "special" and it would pretty much make my dating life obsolete, but it beats the alternative....maybe??

The first "incident" was in Australia. I took a day trip to the Blue Mountains with a tour group. One of the bonuses of the tour package was learning how to throw a boomerang. When I learned this, I have to admit I did immediately think "that's probably got disaster written all over it", but I like to be more optimistic. I can't believe everything I do will end in injury...well...anyway. Our tour group leader took us to a large open reserve to show us how to throw the boomerang and we each had an opportunity to take a test throw and then a real throw. I watched carefully as he demonstrated how to throw the boomerang and I paid extra close attention to all the DO NOT do's that he talked about. He mentioned before we all stepped up for our turn that no one had really ever seriously injured themselves. I cringed, because I realized at that moment he just jinxed it! A couple people went up and took their turns and the girls threw them weak and they went a few feet and nose dived to the ground. The guys tried to be all macho and theirs went flying out into the middle of nowhere, but didn't return. One guy had a pretty good throw, and the boomerang came flying back fast and hit the bus we were traveling in...I watched it happen and I dove to the ground as it came hurling back. Normally, I am not that quick on my feet, so I was ready! It came to be my turn. I went up and he demonstrated the correct form with me again. I got into position and arched my arm back with the boomerang in the 1 o'clock position. Just before I went to throw it the guide said "show these girls how it's done and put some strength behind it!" I felt like I had to really give it a good throw now, I was just challenged! I put all my might into my leg, pulled my arm forward and let her go! I was so proud it didn't go straight into the ground like the other girls that I failed to pay any attention to the fact the boomerang was heading straight back at me! Which is actually really great, because that's exactly what it's suppose to do if you throw it right! Before I could realize what was happening....THUMP! Yup, the boomerang came right back to my head. You have no idea how painful that is! It comes back with a lot of speed and those edges are beveled. It sliced my head right open! Blood was gushing and I'm not exaggerating. It was a bloody disgusting mess. One of the other people in the tour threw up. It was an awful scene. The tour guide didn't panic though. He said that it happens at least once each year. He went to the bus and got the first aid out and wrapped my head in a lot of gauze (those pictures are in the vault for now!) and then asked me if I wanted any additional medical care, which I declined. The tour had only just begun and I wanted to see the Blue Mountains! I've healed rather nicely and I think there was minimal permanent damage :)

Just a tad over a week later, once I returned to the States, I went out for a leisurely bike ride. Per the advice of my friends, I had bought a helmet the day before, which turned out to be really great advice. I was riding along the sidewalk downtown and just taking in a nice day. I was passing by some apartments and some people were out on their balcony working on some kind of a project...but I wasn't paying any attention to what was above me, we all know I need to concentrate on what's in front of me so I don't kill myself! All of sudden, yet again....THUMP! Something had hit me pretty hard and jolted me enough to cause me to fall off my bike. I, unfortunately, didn't have knee or elbow pads on! I fell over and the bike fell on me. I sat up and shook it off and then realized on the ground next to me was a hammer. I looked up and the people on the balcony above were shouting out to me "sorry!! are you ok?!"...and I realized they had dropped the hammer off their balcony and it hit me in the head. Thankfully, my head was protected by my newly purchased helmet (see, the helmet thing is sounding better and better!). My head was safe, but my legs were beat up quite a bit...just another random act!

Just when I thought I was in the clear of accidents I encountered a stickball game gone bad just a few days after the hammer! I was walking to Mission Hills to partake in Farrah's kettlebell bootcamp and I chose a new route to walk....mistake #1. I was walking up State Street and I noticed that the streets were coned off for 4 city blocks. There were a bunch of teams playing stickball in each block. I paused and thought for a second "maybe I should go over another block and walk around all this"...but as is usually the case, I didn't listen to the inner voice. I decided to walk through and just stay close to the inside of the sidewalk. I cleared the first block and I started to approach the second. I noticed that the sidewalk was fair game for these guys, because as they hit the ball players were diving onto the sidewalk to catch it. I paused again and thought maybe it wasn't the best idea, but I figured it would be fine. I waited until after the guy hit the ball to start walking, so I wouldn't be in the path of a flying ball. I cleared block two...phew! I was feeling rather confident now that I made it through two of the blocks. I started into the third block, but was distracted by a text message and didn't pay attention to where they were at with the game. Right as I entered into the sidewalk I heard the crack of the stick on the ball and almost knowingly looked up expecting the impact and WHACK! Yes, the ball hit me in the face. Luckily, it hit me mostly in the side of my face closer to my mouth and didn't really inflict much injury. Just a little sting and some redness. I was just relieved it wasn't my eye. Who needs to explain a black eye by saying they were hit in the face with a stickball??

It's been 10 days and I'm accident free. I feel like I should have a 10 day sober pin or something. I'm hoping it can last a little longer. Ah crap, I probably just jinxed it!!

Random Acts of Debbie asks that you take a moment and comment, good or bad, I welcome it all!

My near death experience...

Last night was one of the scariest nights of my life and that's saying a lot! I honestly thought I could die. In fact, there was a moment where I thought I was, I vividly had conversations with people that were important in my life, but are no longer with us. It was all so real and so confusing.

I started out the morning feeling sick, but it seemed to me like it might have just been a case of food poisoning. I was nauseous, dizzy and had a moderate fever. I felt well enough I still went to the citychase challenge with Greg, so I honestly didn't think much of it at that time.

Greg and I called it quits early in the race because neither of us were feeling well. When I got home the symptoms almost immediately worsened. My fever spiked, I was throwing up, I was in severe pain, and I really couldn't move. I was coherent yet I wasn't thinking clearly. I was able to text people and update facebook, but I couldn't make sense of anything else that was happening, and didn't have sense enough to call for help.

My mom called me just to say hi and after only a second of talking to me knew there was something horribly wrong with me. She freaked out and with me on the phone with her, used her cell phone to call 911. They were able to help connect to emergency services here in San Diego and they dispatched an ambulance.

My mom was trying to explain to me that an ambulance was on the way, but she said I didn't seem to understand what she was saying. Then she said I was hysterically laughing. I don't even remember that. When the paramedics arrived, I couldn't move, so I couldn't get to my door. The police were with them and broke down my door. So crazy! It's all a vague memory to me, but this is how it was explained to me. I remember them saying my name a lot, but apparently I was not responding. I had been vomiting up blood, but because I couldn't move, I was pretty much laying in a pool of blood. Coming home was not pleasant, I'll tell you that much. I remember them putting an IV on me and an oxygen mask over my face. They said I was delirious and I was having a conversation with someone that wasn't there.

When they got me to the hospital emergency room, they said I had lost a lot of blood and for a few seconds my heart stopped. They were able to determine rather quickly that I had an ectopic pregnancy that had ruptured and they rushed me into surgery. Luckily, they were able to act quickly enough to save my life. They said if it they got to me much later, I would have definitely died. That's a really scary thought.

I am thankful that I survived, but sad over the entire situation. I had literally just learned days before this happened that I was pregnant, and I had no idea it was an ectopic pregnancy. While I was unsure what I was going to do, I was excited and happy about the idea of having a baby. So, this has been quite emotional for me. Last night in the hospital was so hard for me. I was there all alone and crying and the only comfort (or lack thereof) I had was the woman in the room with me telling me to keep quiet and stop my sobbing. I'm glad she could be so sympathetic.

I'm sure I will be fine with some time and I know all things happen for a reason. I am thankful to all my friends that expressed concern for me while I was in the hospital and for all the kind words and help you have all offered to me. You all reminded me that I have a lot of people that love me and I have a lot of love to share with all of you!

Nothing can keep me down! I'm Debbie :-)

Random Acts of Debbie asks that you take a moment and comment, good or bad, I welcome it all!

G'day Mate! The Vegan Aussie....

Prior to going to Australia, I did a lot of research on what vegan options were available in Sydney. Not really understanding the layout of the city and the proximity of things, I thought I was in luck because I found a lot of vegan options in my search! I was excited to experience the vegan cuisine of another country.

The first day I was there, I explored the city and became familiar with navigating around downtown and surrounding areas. I wanted to get an idea of where some of these places were, so when it was time to eat I knew where I was going. Keep in mind, I didn't have an International data plan on my phone, nor did I have a SIM card, so I couldn't rely on my GPS or googling anything! I had made a list of the places I wanted to go and the address and did my best to figure out where they were. I wasn't having much luck, it seemed none of the places I was looking for existed, or I was just in the wrong part of town. I did finally find one place, it was called Mother Choo's, and was a Taiwanese vegetarian restaurant. I went there Friday night and had hoped to meet some other vegans that could help me figure out where all the other places were around Sydney. I entered the small restaurant and was overwhelmed with a very large and enticing menu! So many options and I saw all over the wall that they were voted one of the best vegetarian restaurants in all of Australia! It was a good first choice. I was dining alone and immediately noticed a rather charming looking fellow also dining alone on the other side of the room. I noticed that he had "noticed" me. My food arrived around the same time as his did. When the server came to bring him his food he pointed in my direction and then got up from the table. The server brought his food to my table and sat it down. The charming fellow joined me :) I learned he was a Sydney native and also a vegan! Score! I have to say I love their accents. He could have been a raging carnivore and I would have still liked him. Anyway, I told him that I wasn't having much luck finding vegan options in the city, and that it seemed every time I turned a corner someone was trying to feed me kangaroo. He said that the CBD (central business district...essentially downtown and where I was staying) did not have a lot of options, but you could definitely find them hidden about in the city. That's when he offered to take me on a tour of the city the following day and explore all the vegan gems. He also offered to show me all the touristy stuff in Sydney the day after that. This guy already wanted to spend the next two days with me, I was doing something right!

On Saturday, he promptly showed up at my hotel and was eagerly awaiting our vegan tour. We went to breakfast first at a place called Iku Whole Foods. It was good, one of the better scones I've ever had and some yummy porridge! On our way back from there, we went to Paddy's market (really cool btw), and upon leaving I got splashed by a bus! He was trying to help me dry off (he was a little too friendly...but I didn't mind!), but it was hopeless, so we went back to my hotel so I could change. I revealed to him that these things happen to me...random acts that is. You never know when I'll fall, get hit by some flying object, or drenched by a passing bus. He said he was sure I was exaggerating and that it couldn't be that bad. Oh, little did he know!

Since Saturday was a pretty rainy day, we didn't really do a lot more touring of vegan dining, so we did some shopping and called it an early day. There was still Sunday to look forward to...or so I thought.

He arrived bright eyed and bushy tailed to my hotel again on Sunday morning. First on the agenda was a tour of the Sydney Opera House! Sounds like fun, right? All was going well on our walk to the Opera House, I only tripped a couple of times, but didn't crash and burn. He should have known after that I wasn't exaggerating. If anyone has been the Opera House before or seen pictures, you know there are quite a few steps leading up to the entrance. They are not steep or difficult to navigate at all...but with me, any step is a dangerous step! As we were walking up, I was being very careful and trying extra hard to watch each step. Then he pointed to something across the harbour and I lost my concentration when I looked out...that's all it took. I went for that next step without looking and I stumbled in my shape-ups and flailing arms and all started to go backwards. Fully expected. What was worse is I grabbed him as I started to fall. I usually don't do that. Down he went. I tumbled from pretty much the top of the steps to the bottom. He was a little more controlled than me and stopped his fall after only a step or two. He was freaked out! He thought I was dead. I was just a little stunned, but not dead. Did I mention he's a med student? He wanted me to see a doctor, but I said I was fine. He determined my ankle was sprained, but that I seemed to be alright outside of that. The nice thing was he let me hold on to him as we limped about the city for a little while longer before he insisted we go to my hotel and put ice on my ankle. I think he really liked going to my hotel!

He showed me Sydney and I introduced him to Random Acts of Debbie and a few other things ;) Unlike the guy that left his pants in San Francisco, he left his jacket...I considered it a souvenir :)

I told him if he wants it back he needs to come to San Diego and I'll give him the same courtesy he gave me! I wonder if he'll ever come for his jacket....or if he'd rather keep all his bones in tact?!

Random Acts of Debbie asks that you take a moment and comment, good or bad, I welcome it all!

Saying goodbye and new beginnings...

In the last few weeks my world has been turned upside down and nothing seems the same anymore. You know how everyone says change is good? I wonder if they would be saying that if every aspect of their lives changed within less than a week! I'm definitely a proponent of the "change is good" mantra, but I have to be honest, I'm struggling a little bit to embrace all that is happening in my world right now.

Just a few weeks ago the only thing I wanted to change about my life was my job. I wasn't happy there and things just didn't seem to be looking up. I had been there close to 3 years and in the beginning it was really great. It was a company almost in it's infancy even though it had been around for 30+ years. The possibilities were endless and it brought excitement to my life. I've always been ambitious, driven, and extremely competitive. So the job and the company had everything I was looking for, so much so, I helped bring my friend on board only a few months later. Somewhere along the way either I changed or the job changed, but I no longer understood the vision or my role in the vision. It was all downhill from there. The environment for me was like poison. I went to work and I felt suffocated. It was pure torture to wake up in the mornings and go into the office, but I did it begrudgingly so I could continue to have the life I was leading outside of work. That part of my life was going really well and was the thing that kept my sanity balanced.

The good thing is I got fired. Yes, it is a good thing! It's good for me and good for that company. I hated it there and I wasn't living up to my full potential anymore. This has given me time to reflect on what I really want and to relax and enjoy life a little. In the few weeks since getting fired I have taken a road trip to San Francisco and crossed the Pacific to Australia. To do these things with complete freedom and enjoyment was incredible. The stress and the burdens that I was carrying around for so long just fell right off my shoulders. While I'm being sensible (financially), I am taking this time and making the most of it. It's a rare opportunity to have this kind of freedom and to really live! Losing my job has also made me focus more on my law school ambitions. I decided before I got fired I wanted to go to law school, but this event has only made that choice even clearer for me. I need a change, a real change. I might be older than the average law student, but why should that limit me? I'm good at being a student! Now, I just need to focus hard on doing well on my LSAT and impressing the law schools on my list with my wit and wisdom!

The other change I alluded to was my life outside of work. As you may have read in previous blog posts, kettlebells and training with Charlie had become a HUGE part of my life in the last year and a half. Meeting Charlie and training with him changed my life and had a profound impact on me. It gave me a confidence in myself that I had lost long ago. It gave me a great deal of pride and feeling of accomplishment. It was almost like a lifeline for me. At the same time I lost my job, I learned Charlie was going to move to San Francisco. No more kettlebells for me. No more inspiring and motivational Charlie. This change was not as good for me as the aforementioned firing. This one I am still struggling with. No, kettlebells are not solely tied to Charlie, I can and hopefully will work with a new trainer....but it's really hard to lose something and someone that impacted my life so much. No, he's not dead...so obviously he is still my friend! But, I was used to Charlie and our kettlebell workouts twice a week for over a year now. It was such an integral part of my life. It's really weird not having that anymore. And, of course, without a job I couldn't afford personal training anymore anyway. So, really, I should look at it that way. Even if he was still here, I couldn't afford to train with him...hmm, that does make me feel a little better. Now, there's just the vacancy of his humor, motivation, encouragement and friendship. I guess I'll have to make more trips to San Francisco!

All this change hasn't been bad though. Good things are happening too. I now have the time to really devote to my health and fitness. I'm going to the gym more, biking, walking, hiking and cooking more! It's amazing the things we sacrifice for our jobs (well, not all jobs make you sacrifice). When working, it was a luxury for me to have time to go to the gym or go on a hike. Now I wake up in the mornings and the day has no limits. I can do whatever I want. It's really exciting! I've met some new people and reacquainted myself with people I had neglected before. I'm not wasting a single moment of this time.

I do believe all things happen for a reason and I think this was the universes way of telling me that I needed to change things up a little. I need a fresh start. I have complete faith that I will land on my feet and end up where I'm supposed to be. In the past I may have worried and stressed over these changes, but now I see them all as small blessings in disguise. It's really exciting to think about what's next for me. It could be anything. Who knows what job is waiting for me or who I might meet walking around the corner. When one door closes another one opens.

By the way, is your company hiring?? :-)

Random Acts of Debbie asks that you take a moment and comment, good or bad, I welcome it all!

How I've lost 150 pounds and kept it off...

I am constantly asked the question "how did you do it?" Sometimes I'm not sure of the answer to that question myself. There is no magic solution, no easy way, no right way. I really do think it's a different journey and process for everyone. If you think about it, we all gain the weight for different reasons, so losing it is just the same. Some people are emotional eaters, some people just don't understand food and nutrition, some don't have any self-control, some have medical conditions that cause them to eat more. It's about getting to the root cause of why you eat and starting from there.

For me, it was a combination of a few things. For one, I had no concept of nutrition. Growing up, my parents basically gave us whatever we wanted. We were the house where kids always knew they would get soda, Doritos, ding dongs, Twinkies, candy galore, donuts, and the list goes on and on. I never ate because I was hungry, I ate because it was there. My typical day when I was in grade school was to get up in the morning and scarf down an insane amount of sugary cereal (fruity pebbles, captain crunch, apple jacks, etc.). Then I would go off to school with a HUGE lunch my mom had packed for me, which usually consisted of a sandwich slathered in a ton of meat and topped off with an inch thick piece of cheese. To compliment the sandwich there would always be a bag of chips, and ALWAYS a dessert or two. Most notably were the Twinkies, hostess pies, and the ding dongs. As I got older there were chunkies, big hunks, and other varieties of candies. To quench my thirst was a soda (we were a coke family). When I would get home, I would come straight into the kitchen, grab the Doritos and a coke and sometimes a sweet treat. I would plop down right in front of the TV and I would watch whatever was on or play Atari. I didn't go outside, I wasn't really encouraged to. I didn't play. I just ate and watched TV. Dinner wasn't much better. My mom learned how to cook by making a handful of really large quantity meals. So she would make a giant pot of spaghetti sauce and we would eat that for days, or it was an enormous meatloaf and trough of mashed potatoes...and let's not forget the entire tray of pork chops coated in shake n' bake usually served with a giant bowl of Kraft macaroni and cheese. Very rarely were there vegetables on the table, and if there were, they were the frozen kind and she would cook them up and then smother them in butter.

Now, don't get me wrong, my mom didn't know any better. She didn't learn nutrition from her parents, that's for sure! She only knew what she was raised on. It's not like they teach nutrition in school, which I think really needs to change! I was smart, I could have at any time realized I was getting fatter and fatter and fatter. I could see my parents were overweight, I could see what other kids ate, I had dinner at other people's houses and I saw there were better ways to eat. I just didn't know how to change that relationship I had with food at that young age.

It wasn't just my poor knowledge of nutrition that was the source of my problem either. I was an emotional eater in college. I went through a lot, and the stress of college and all the things that happened just pushed me into a state of emotional eating. That's when things truly got out of control and I hit my max weight.

I had wanted to lose weight most of my life. I knew it wasn't good for me to be the size I was, especially when I was a kid. I couldn't do any of the things other kids did. I was always tired and would run out of breath. I had to shop in the women's section of the stores to buy clothes and I was just a kid! It was truly sad and I knew that. The thing is, you have to have something that truly motivates you to change. If you only want to change so other people will like you, or so that someone will find you attractive, or so you can wear nicer clothes...that's not good enough. That's all superficial. That's not reason enough for meaningful change. When that is your driving motivation, you may succeed at losing something, but you'll never have permanent and lasting change.

So, you ask me how did I do it. It was a slow and evolving process with me. First of all, I found my motivation. I've blogged about it before, but it was my health and my mom's health. I saw my future in front of me and it was bleak. I have such a sense of adventure and I love to do so many things...most of which I couldn't do because of my weight. It was only going to get worse and harder as I got older. In 2006 my back when out bad. I was completely disabled. It was my wake-up call. I needed to lose weight or I would never have any kind of a life.

Once I had the motivation, I had no clue what I really needed to do to lose weight. I understood the basic principle of losing weight. I am a smart girl, I get the logic behind it. Calories in and calories out. You need to burn more than you take in. Ok, well, how hard can that be? When I first started the journey in Jan 2007, my idea of improving my nutrition was eliminating full calorie soda and moving to diet. I thought that was a huge change! It did have results initially. I saw a 10 pound loss almost immediately. I thought I was on the right track. I had read in a lot of journals that the people that have had the most success with weight loss kept a food journal and documented everything they ate. So, I decided this was a good idea for me. The first day I tracked what I was eating, I was disgusted with myself. I was eating over 4000 calories a day (after the elimination of the soda!). I had no idea how much food I was eating. I already thought I was cutting way back. I was so discouraged at how I would possibly get that number to 2000 or below.

My tactic wasn't to jump directly into the deep end of the pool, but to start out wading in the shallow end with a life preserver :) I cut back initially to 3000 calories and I kept eating all the same things I always ate, but just in smaller quantities. I never ate vegetables, I always ate meat and potatoes, and sweets were always readily available. I knew exercise would have to factor in at some point, so I bought a treadmill. I set very small goals for myself in the beginning. I would get on for 10 minutes at about 2mph and I would want to die at the end of that (crazy to think about that now!). Once I would get comfortable at that time and speed I would make a small change. Either I would bump up the speed a tad and go the same amount of time or I would go longer at the lower speed. I tried to do this every day, so it would become normal or routine, and it did! I started to see some results. I had lost about 25 pounds in a couple of months of making these changes.

The problem was I still didn't understand food and its impact on my body. I didn't understand how my body reacted to the food or how it was being processed. I REALLY didn't understand the awful things I was putting in my body. I ate a ton of processed food. The next phase for me with my nutrition was reducing myself to 2000 calories. Not understanding nutrition, my easy answer to this was frozen dinners. I became addicted to Marie Callender's and a variety of other frozen meals. They were decently low in calories and that's all I cared about. I didn't even think about all the things that were in that food, the sodium levels, the cholesterol. I was doing what I was supposed to, I was eating less calories. I continued to see weight loss, but I was still tired a lot, and wasn't feeling those "endorphins" everyone talked about.

I continued on this path for a tad over a year and I did see about a 60 pound weight loss in total. I hit a wall though. When I came out to California I was 245 pounds, down from 305 when I started this change. I went down maybe 10 more pounds in a 6 month period of time, but I was pretty much out of ideas. I had bumped up my treadmill routine to 60 minutes every day at about 3.2 mph and I was down to 1500 calories a day. I didn't know what else to do.

This is when I really started to educate myself on food and learn about its impact on my body and my health. I eliminated soda and flavored beverages all together and went strictly to water (and tea occasionally). I immediately felt better after that. I started to make similar changes and I noted how I felt when I ate certain foods and how my energy levels would change. I started to explore more veggies and found that I felt really good when I added vegetables to my meal. I started to prepare more meals on my own and moved away from the frozen foods. I ate a lot of boneless skinless chicken breasts. I would grill or bake them and I would have veggies or potatoes. Through this process I was really understanding how food could change every aspect of my well being. I slept better, I had more energy, and my mind was sharper. I was still losing weight at a slow pace though. Exercise had become boring for me. The treadmill was uninteresting and not really getting me anywhere. By the end of 2008 I was at about 225 pounds. It was nothing to sneeze at...80 pounds was a lot. That's like a small kid!

In January of 2009 I was introduced to kettlebells. I was a total skeptic of a personal trainer and was pretty self-conscience of my body and feared being made fun of or laughed at. It was, after all, what I was used to. Whenever I went to the gym, I always heard the stupid comments guys would make or get the looks like it was pointless for me to be there. My self-esteem was pretty low. When my roommate told me about his friend Charlie, I really thought it was just going to be another disaster. However, he wanted to buy me three introductory sessions and I was desperate for something new. I liked the idea I didn't have to go to a gym and that the only humiliation I would suffer would be with one other person, and if I didn't want to, I wouldn't have to see him ever again! So, I reluctantly accepted the gift and called to schedule the first session. You have no idea how nervous I was and I had all kinds of visions in my head of what it was going to be like. When I met Charlie, it was almost instant that I liked him and I felt comfortable with him. I still assumed he was probably judging me and thinking I was hopeless, but he was at least being nice to me. I don't think he thought that about me now, but I thought that then. I was intimidated by the kettlebells and thought for sure it wasn't going to be easy for me to learn. I loved it! I was hooked after one session and I continued it for a year and a half. I got over the hump and lost another 65 pounds!

In the last 8 months I've also developed a new relationship with food yet again. I've embraced the vegetarian and now vegan lifestyle. If you had asked me 10 years ago if I would ever be a vegetarian, let alone a vegan, I would have laughed in your face! I have to say it has been one of the best changes I've ever made. In October 2009 I became vegetarian and I found that to be a really easy change, to my surprise. I felt really good! I thought I already had a lot of energy, but I found I had even more after the change to my diet. I educated myself more and more about vegetarianism and veganism and in March of 2010 decided to become a vegan. I don't find it difficult to be a vegan at all. I think there is a lot of magnificent food that is free of animal and animal by-products, that you never run out of choices of what to eat. It's all delicious, I don't have any issues with getting protein, vitamins, and essential nutrients. It's about being smart about what you eat and really developing that intimate relationship with food. When you truly understand how food makes you feel and how your body reacts, that is when you can make a meaningful change to your life. When I eat something "bad" for me, my body is sure to tell me. I love that! It's your bodies own way of telling you "no!!".

So, back to the question how did I do it? I learned how to eat again. I never went on a diet. I never had any surgery. I've never taken any pills or magical diet formulas. I've never done any of the "fads" for losing weight. I had the will and the motivation and the rest was a re-education of food and nutrition. Once I understood food, I just had to find the exercise regimen that was right for me, and that turned out to be kettlebells. It could be different for everyone.

The one thing that is true for anyone wanting to do the same thing, is you have to understand what and why you eat. If you don't do that, it will never last.

In this journey I have never gained any of the weight back. I have hit plateaus, but I never went backwards. I truly believe it's because the change I made was through learning and education and that is permanent and with me forever. I am now 155 pounds and I feel better than I ever have in my life. I would like to lose another 10 pounds, but I am content with myself as I am, and that's a first for me :)


Random Acts of Debbie asks that you take a moment and comment, good or bad, I welcome it all!

Number One Returns...

This blog is a follow up to "1, 2, 3...no, not Britney", specifically about number One (that later became my stalker). After his attack of me last year, he was arrested and was supposed to serve 6 months in jail. However, our judicial system decided that he met the criteria of a "reformed" individual and released him early in January. I had a temporary restraining order in place before he was arrested, so when he was released I completed the process to make the restraining order permanent.

They released him on probation until the end of April, which was the original end of his sentence. I figured if he was really reformed he would keep his distance, but I was doubtful to say the least. I didn't really have any encounters with him for a while. I did see him once or twice and he actually saw me, but would change his direction. I thought that was a good sign that he was actually respecting the restraining order.

Then in early April I woke up one morning and found a letter under my door that was from him. The letter asked for my forgiveness and expressed that he was reformed and realized that he had lost control and did some really bad things, but that he had worked through all those problems in jail and worked with a psychologist. It was all just words and nonsense to me. I immediately reported it to the police, following the instructions of the restraining order. It seems like a small thing and didn't cause me any harm, but I think that's the problem with people that have been a victim or are a victim of a stalker...they don't report it enough! I wasn't leaving any doors open for him to cause me any more drama!

I was informed that he received a warning in regards to the letter he left for me, but he wasn't fined and it wasn't considered a violation of his probation, because there was no evidence to suggest he was actually on the premises to leave the letter and while written communication is also part of the restraining order, it did not contain and threatening remarks. Again, the justice system shines again! I ignored his letter, which is what I learned to do in counseling.

I didn't hear from him after that and I thought he was backing off since he knew I reported it and I was serious. However, just a few days ago I had another encounter. I went down to the lobby in the evening to check my mail. My lobby has this sitting area and the mail room is just at the end of that. We don't have a permanent person in the lobby, but usually have security patrolling after 7pm. When I went down I saw a man sitting on one of the couches. When I took a second look I saw it was number one. He saw me and smiled. I asked him what he was doing there and he said "don't get all worked up, I'm here waiting for a friend, not to see you. Don't go reporting this like you did the last time." I told him it wasn't okay to be in my building regardless of the reason and the restraining order requires him to stay off the premises, including the surrounding area, and he needed to leave immediately. He told me that I needed to learn how to forgive people and stop being so judgmental and cold. Then he said "if it makes you feel better, I'll go outside and wait for him, but like I said don't go reporting this." He got up and walked towards me and tried to hug me. I pulled back and he just gave me this disgusting smile, which made my skin crawl a little. Then he went outside. I immediately called the police and reported the violation.

This time he was picked up and taken to the station for the offense. However, they just fined him $500 and still did not consider it a violation of his probation. So he didn't serve and time and was released after he paid his fine. Thanks again justice system!

On Tuesday I came home and I was baking a cake for a celebration at work the next day. As the cake was baking, I decided to go down and check my mail again. I realize I had a pretty consistent pattern in checking my mail in the evenings, which made it easy for him to figure out my routine (that's a lesson learned!). Anyway, as I went downstairs, I didn't see anything in the lobby, but honestly I wasn't really looking. I went into the mail room and retrieved my mail. As I exited back into the lobby, number one was right in front of the door and waiting for me. He was angry. He immediately yelled at me and called me a "bitch" and then told me I owed him $500 for my bullshit report of him violating the restraining order. He was walking towards me in a very threatening way and backing me towards the front door of my building. I remained confident and forceful with him and I told him he brought it on himself and it was his own actions that caused that fine. I told him he was only making things worse for himself and I was going to report this incident as well. He was getting really angry and told me that I drove him crazy and he wasn't going to put up with it anymore. I told him to leave immediately or he was going to find himself right back in jail. I remained calm but forceful with him the whole time. I became assertive and walked in his direction to go past him and to the elevator to get back to my place. However, as soon as I took a step towards him he pulled up his shirt and revealed he had a gun.

I didn't show fear, although I was really scared, and I told him that he was making a big mistake and that he couldn't reverse what he was about to do and he would be throwing his life away for good. He lunged at me with his hand near his side by the gun. So, I quickly turned and bolted out the front door and ran towards the courtyard (which requires a FOB to enter). I ran into the courtyard and pulled the gate shut. He was right behind me and as I ran toward the other side I saw him enter (he must have still had his FOB). He ran towards me and then I ran back the other way, but I couldn't escape past him and he yanked my arm pulling it hard (it almost felt like it was dislocated) and then he punched me. It happened really fast. When he hit me it felt like my eye exploded. It was incredibly painful. I reacted by kicking him as hard as I could so he would let go of my arm and I could get away. I ran back out of the courtyard and to my building to get back to my condo.

I got off the elevator and ran to my door and pulled the door shut and locked it. I heard him right behind me. He fired his gun in the hallway and I realized he was really out of control and could really hurt me at that point. I ran out to the balcony and luckily there were a lot of cops down below because of the Padres game. I shouted out that there was a man with a gun on the 3rd floor and he was firing at my door. One cop reacted immediately. I saw him run towards my building and I heard number one fire a second shot, which put a hole in my door. My heart was pounding and for the first time I thought he was going to kill me.

Almost immediately after the second shot, the officers were already on my floor and screaming at him to drop the gun. He didn't resist, he dropped the gun, and he got on the floor and they handcuffed him.

He is back in jail, but sadly it seems he will only get 90 days. Apparently, discharging his weapon in public isn't assault with a deadly weapon, attempted murder, or any other serious charge. He was only charged with possession of a concealed weapon and public disturbance. He also was charged with battery for hitting me. The system is seriously flawed when a person can do all of that and only go to jail for 90 days.

I won't give up on getting justice though. As long as he continues to stalk me I will continue to report it and attempt to get justice. I have to believe justice will prevail eventually.

I refuse to let anyone make me live in fear or in confinement because they can't control their own actions. I'm stronger than that and I'm stronger than him.

Random Acts of Debbie asks that you take a moment and comment, good or bad, I welcome it all!