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!

If you are going to ride with me...wear good shoes and push!

I was pretty proud of my first car. For one, I worked really hard to save up for a car and for two, I thought it was a pretty cool ride! Looking back, maybe I would rethink that second statement. It was a '76 Toyota Pickup and it was a bright baby blue with red windshield wipers, side mirrors, and license plate covers. I thought it was the greatest truck ever!

I was one of the first people among my group that had a car, so I was the one that did most of the driving. I didn't mind, I loved to drive! I think my little truck might have minded though, because after I had it for about a year, the reverse went out. Yes, the reverse. I didn't know it was possible to lose reverse entirely!

The only way for me to back up was to use my feet! I had to try whenever possible to park on a hill or an incline to get some kind of boost in backing up, because if I was on a level surface or slightly downhill, it was REALLY hard to back up with my one foot! I was always grateful to have a passenger, because I could put them to work.

My car affectionately got nicknamed the "Flintstone Truck" since I had to use my feet to backup! It was embarrassing. People would always be looking at me when I would get in my car and then stick my foot out and start pushing it back. I remember once I was at the mall and it was a busy mall day, so people were stalking you when you left to get your parking space. I got into my car and had to start pushing to get out of my space and it was a challenge to get it going, and the car waiting started honking at me and screaming at me from their window. It was awful! All I could say was "I don't have reverse, please stop honking!! It's not my fault!!"

There were a few times I couldn't get it to move by just using my foot, so I would have to get out and try to push it back with all my might. And once or twice I nearly lost control of it doing that. There was one time I was pushing from the outside and then when it got its momentum I had to run and jump in to stop it from getting away from me.

You might ask why I didn't just get the reverse fixed, but when I got an estimate, it turned out getting it fixed would cost almost as much as the car did! My Subway wages weren't going to allow for that.

As more of my friends got cars, less and less people wanted to drive with me. Anyone that would take a ride from me knew they would get a workout. I didn't think that was necessarily a bad thing.

The good and the bad of it was that my left leg got really strong...but the bad was that my left leg bulked up while my right leg stayed the same. It wasn't a pretty look!

I still have fond memories of the Flintstone truck. He will forever be my first!

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

Camping trip from hell!

It was circa 1995 and I was approaching the last of my high school years when me and several of my friends decided it would be great to go on a camping trip to the beach. I loved camping, my family was very much into it, but we had never camped at a campsite or anywhere near the beach. We were hardcore campers...roughing it, no electricity, no toilet, just nature. So, this was going to be like luxury camping to me!

It was me, Tony, Sherleen, and Alana. I still can't remember why we invited Alana exactly. It has been a while, so my memory may not be the best (calling on Tony to fill in the details!!). Alana wasn't exactly the easiest person to get along with. I mean, she was nice enough, but she could be like nails on a chalkboard sometimes. Her personality could easily clash with others. I think there must have been a reason though. Maybe she secured the campsite for us?? I had a lot of the camping equipment and I had my truck to load everything into, so that wasn't it. Alana had a car too, and she must have drove, because otherwise we wouldn't have left her there like we did (to be explained later).

I was excited for the trip and I packed Tony and Sherleen into my truck and we hit the road for the beach. When we got there, I think we set up camp, and then hit the beach. I don't really recall what the temps were, but it was the summer and the sun was definitely out in full force. To get to the beach we had to kind of climb down this sand hill. I remember thinking, this is much easier to get down then it's going to be get back up...but that didn't matter, I just wanted to hit the beach!

The concept of sunscreen was obviously foreign to me, because I don't think I used any, and if I did it was definitely not enough! We were on the beach for a while and I think I even fell asleep for a little bit (or maybe a long bit!). By the end of the day several of us (myself, Tony, and Sherleen) were all a little bit red. Plus, we had to crawl our way back up the sand bank to get back up to camp. This was a little bit easier for Tony and Sherleen I'm sure, but for me I was slightly challenged (being twice their size!). I remember crawling and then sliding back down and trying over and over again. I thought for sure I would die on that beach!

It wasn't long after we got back to camp before we realized we were pretty badly sunburned. It wasn't your average mild burn, we were in severe pain. Luckily, Sherleen had some lotion or aloe with her that we were passing around our camp circle trying to get any relief we possibly could. The burn was so bad that it hurt to breath, blink, turn, anything. We were miserable. We couldn't do anything! Alana was the only one that didn't get burnt. She was annoying the hell out of us because she wanted to do stuff and we were all too burnt to even think about doing anything!

The idea of spending the night in a tent and on the ground when our bodies were burnt to a crisp was a miserable thought. We contemplated just packing up and ending the trip early. I think we may have mentioned this in front of Alana, which caused an argument. Alana went psycho that night and threatened to take a bottle of pills and kill herself. When she found out we decided to leave she threatened to kill herself and then threw the pills into the fire after having a crazy fit. We were also there with someone else who was on Alana's side (I feel like her name was Tami). Alana then grabbed my lantern and threw it into the fire and blew it up!

It was not the fun camping trip we were looking forward to! We just wanted to die. It wasn't like we just had a little burn on our arm or leg, we were walking fire! Our faces, legs, arms, bodies....lobsters! All we could do was take comfort in each others misery. The only one that didn't understand that was ALANA!

We came up with a plan to pack up our stuff and sneak out of camp in the middle of the night and go home! We figured Alana could stay or go as she wished, but we couldn't take it anymore.

While Alana was asleep, we quickly packed up my truck and gathered up our stuff. We wanted to get the hell out of there and we didn't want to wake Alana and face another meltdown or suicide threat! Thank goodness the pills were in the fire!

We frantically pulled it all together and piled into the cab of my truck (which btw only sits 2 legally) and we bolted out of there. It was such a relief to know we were headed home where we could bath in aloe or lotion and find some temporary relief to our throbbing lobster bodies! Sure, we felt bad that we left her there in her psycho fragile state and abandoning our trip, but no one could understand our pain! Plus, we were all a little scared at that point. I think as we pulled away, we were all looking back in fear that she might be following us. The adrenaline was running high that night.

After the trip there was some ill feelings with Alana, but we could have expected that. There was some high school drama of me threatening her over the lantern and being compensated for it. I wrote her some nasty and threatening notes about the lantern and I think I threatened suing her or having my parents come after her?! It was all drama! She did finally compensate me for the lantern. After all she did blow it up in her fit of psycho rage!

I often wonder what Alana is doing today. I don't think I really talked to her much after the camping trip from hell. Thankfully, I did keep in contact with Tony and Sherleen and we share our traumatic memories of the camping trip from hell! I think just the mention of it makes any one of us shudder. One positive out of the nightmare, is that it taught me a lesson about sunscreen and I never want to inflict that kind of pain on myself again! The other valuable lesson, is never bring a slightly mentally unstable individual on a camping trip...it will surely end bad!

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

I always wanted a brother??

When I was younger my parents told me and my sister that we possibly had a half brother and his name might be Eric. My dad had been married previously and when that relationship ended he married my mom not long after. One Father's Day his ex-wife sent him a card with a picture of a baby boy that just said "happy father's day from your son, Eric".

According to my dad, his ex-wife was not one to be trusted and he was sure it was just a ploy to get something out of him. He never heard from her or received any cards after that. Not knowing if it was real or not, my parent's always joked with my sister and I never to date anyone named Eric, because they could potentially be our brother!

I never thought much about it and always assumed it was just a lie anyway, that is until the Spicy Pickle.

Now mind you, I grew up in Oregon and this is where "Eric" would have been born and raised as well. So, being in Southern California, I wouldn't think I would just randomly stumble upon this mythical brother of mine.

I had been wanting to check out the Spicy Pickle that had just opened up next door to me and I took advantage of working from home and went there to get a late lunch. I was waiting in line and perusing the menu to decide what I wanted to eat, when I heard a customer at the counter talking about a tradition in his house at Christmas time of hiding a pickle on the tree. I found it interesting that he was sharing this tradition, because this has been a tradition in our house for as long as I can remember. It's a German tradition. Since I had already eavesdropped and heard his story, I couldn't help from injecting myself into his conversation, and telling him how my dad has done this for years.

He was intrigued by this, since anyone he had ever told that to, had always thought it was weird and had never heard of that tradition. This started a conversation between the two of us. Immediately, I thought he looked familiar, but I was sure I hadn't met him before. We sat down and started a conversation. He said his name was Eric and he was from Portland. Hmm, what a small world I thought. I told him I was from Oregon as well and I asked him if he was German, and if that is why they celebrated the pickle tradition. He said he believed he was part German, but he never knew his father, and his mother was not German but had learned the tradition and kept it going in their family.

As I was talking to him and staring at him more and more, I just couldn't get the thought out of my head that he was really familiar. It started to dawn on me that a lot of his features reminded me of my dad. In fact, he kind of looked like my dad in a picture of him from when he was in the military. Piecing information together...his name was Eric, he grew up in Oregon, didn't know his father but he was German, and the pickle tradition....could it be?? Was this really my brother?

I started to ask him more questions about his family. I told him I wasn't trying to be rude or overly personal, but I was curious about his father and what he knew about him. He said he didn't mind sharing, but he didn't know a whole lot. He said his mother told him that she found out she was pregnant after she divorced his father and that when he was born she had only made one attempt to let him know. He said he always asked his mom why she didn't try harder to make the connection, and that she always told him that his father wasn't the "father" type and that she thought he might be better off without him. Ouch, that's a harsh thing to say. If he really is my half brother, my dad was the best dad anyone could ever have. We were his life. Anyway, that's a sidetrack. I asked him if his mom ever told him any details about his dad and what he did or what his name was or anything. He said the only thing he knew was that he was a machinist by trade and lived in the country. That kind of sealed it for me, since my dad is a machinist.

I then revealed to him that when I was growing up that my mom and dad had told my sister and I a story of a possible half brother named Eric. I told him how my dad had been married before and that it wasn't a good marriage and they divorced, and not long after he received a card in the mail with a picture of a baby boy. I said "I think you might be that baby boy." He then told me that he did know that his father had two girls and that he might have sisters, but that his mom always told him that his father knew about him and didn't want anything to do with him. I told him that my father never knew it was real and because she only sent the one card, he never gave it any thought, and that I know my dad would have been part of his life if he knew it was real.

I took a picture of him with my cell phone and sent it to my dad, but given it's been 37 years since my dad ever thought about this issue, he was a little stunned to say the least. He said he really didn't believe it was true, but he wouldn't be opposed to talking to him if he wanted that. Eric said it was all a little much for him and that running into his potential sister in a Spicy Pickle just seems a little unreal. I couldn't agree more, but his story was too close to what I had been told and it seemed like it was highly plausible that he was indeed my brother.

We ended our conversation by exchanging numbers and I gave him my dad's contact info. We agreed to get together for lunch some time when this was all a little less confusing and weird.

I'm not sure how I feel about the idea of this brother really existing and how much it should be part of my life. It's confusing to say the least, especially with the chaos in my family right now with my sister. However, if there is anything I enjoy most about life, it's the unexpected twists and turns that keep it interesting.

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

I cooked my foot in Hawaii!

My first and only trip to Hawaii (thus far in my life at least) was to Honolulu (Waikiki) and was a complete disaster!

I was really excited when I found a great deal on a companion fare to Honolulu. The only trouble was finding someone that could go with me. I didn't do much traveling with people, because I'm really particular on what I want to do and see when I go places. I don't like to have a schedule or itinerary and I like to figure it out as I go along and be a little more spontaneous than planful. However, I do like to make the most of my trips and I make sure I fit in all the "must sees" and "must dos" while I'm there. I think that's reasonable.

I surveyed my friends to see who might want to go with me and my friend 'L' was all over it. She had wanted to go to Hawaii for the longest time and it just worked out well that we could both get away at that time. I figured L and I would probably have similar interests and want to do some of the same things, so we went ahead and booked it!

The trip didn't start of so well. The flight there involved a man that had rank breath and kept falling asleep on my shoulder and he was a drooler! It was disgusting to say the least. My shoulder was actually wet at one point from his drool. Disgusting! I had to listen to L whine and moan that we weren't in first class and nothing was good enough for her. Yes, sandwiched between a whiner and a drooler...I might as well have been in the neighborhood hole-in-the-wall bar!

When we finally landed, we gathered up our stuff (my luggage was literally the last to come off the plane!) and made our way to the rental car agency. We weren't planning on getting a car, but the package deal we got included it. Of course, the car rental place we chose was not easily accessible and was away from all the rest. After inquiring numerous times, we finally found our way to the car. We asked for a map and headed to our hotel.

We had some trouble finding the place, it wasn't one of the nice hotels in Waikiki, it was just off the beaten path and not really conveniently located near anything! The room was ok, but definitely not a place you wanted to be other than to sleep. Once we got there, I was ready to get out an explore and I was starving. I took a quick shower to get the drool off of me and when I got out and was all ready to go, I found L was sound asleep on the bed. I tried gently waking her, but she was out for the count. I decided I might as well take a quick nap too. We ended up sleeping for over 2 hours! What a waste of good daylight! Since we woke up a little late, we didn't head to the beach, we went out looking for food an nightlife instead. We asked the desk clerk at the hotel for recommendations of places to eat and he wasn't much help. We set off exploring and found some Hawaiian fusion place that was decent but not great. So far, Hawaii wasn't turning out to be the tropical paradise I was hoping for it to be.

I wanted to go out after dinner and enjoy the nightlife in Waikiki, but L was complaining that her head hurt and that the food wasn't sitting well and that she was tired....blah, blah, blah. Really?! I mean we were in Hawaii for only 4 days and you want to waste an evening just sleeping and eating sub par food?? I figured we would just call this first day a wash and put it behind us and I caved in an went back to the hotel upon her request.

The next day I wanted to take it all in and really enjoy all that Hawaii had to offer. Of course, that included the beach! It didn't take much convincing to get L going to the beach. We packed up our stuff and started the trek to the beach 'near' our hotel (it was a decent hike). We staked out a nice spot that was partially in the shade and sun. I have an extreme sensitivity to the sun, so I completely slathered myself in sunscreen (SPF 75) to ensure I wasn't going to burn. This included my feet. While we were laying out on the beach I had buried my feet in the sand at one point and with the sunscreen on my feet it caused the sand to stick. This wasn't really a big deal, you expect sand to stick to you when you go to the beach. What I didn't realize is that sand can actually act as a catalyst for the sun and for the next few hours that we were laying out by the beach the sun was literally cooking my feet (I did not learn this until much later).

When we were done at the beach we went back to the hotel to clean up and go out for dinner. I took a shower and I noticed that my feet looked a little red, but I figured they were just slightly sunburned or maybe irritated by the sand. At that point they looked and felt fine other than a little redness.

We went out to dinner and ended up finding a much better restaurant this time. It was a nice evening. Again, I was ready to go out and hit the Waikiki after hours! L complained again that she didn't feel great and was wiped out from our day. Ugh! Are you kidding me. This time I wasn't so nice and I forced her to at least go get a few drinks. She was always walking about 10 paces behind me and every word out of her mouth was a complaint. I tried to ignore it, but it was driving me nuts! I wanted the Hawaii paradise everyone else always exclaimed about!

Our evening was rather boring and I finally caved to L again and went back to the hotel. When we woke up the next day my feet felt really tight and when I looked down at them, I noticed my right foot was extremely swollen and my left foot was getting a little puffy too. There wasn't any sign of a blister yet. When I stood up my feet were stinging and it was rather painful. I figured this was going to go away naturally and wasn't going to turn into anything serious. We were going to the Dole plantation and to drive around Oahu since we had the car. As we drove out to the plantation, I literally watched my feet get larger and larger and larger. As we went on the tour, a blister started to form on my right foot. It was the craziest thing you ever saw, my foot seemed to be alive. This blister was growing and my foot was getting larger by the minute. We drove up to the North Shore of Hawaii and explored the beach and watched some of the surfers. At this point my foot was throbbing and a VERY large blister had formed on the right foot and smaller blisters were forming on the left. I couldn't even get my foot in my flip flops anymore and putting any weight on my foot was extremely painful!

We drove back to Waikiki and to our hotel. When we got back to the room I called my mom for advice on what to do about my foot. The advice she gave me turned out to be the worst thing I could have done! She told me to take a needle and to pop the blister to release the fluids. I was terrified to do that because it was extremely painful and the blister was huge! I did it anyway. After that, my foot became this raw, bloody, fleshy, disgusting entity. The pain was beyond belief. I couldn't do anything. I went down to the lobby to see what first aid they had available, hoping they might at least have some gauze or bandage that I could protect my foot with. All they had were tiny band aids and after looking at my foot the guy just gave us the full box of them. So, I tried to make the best of it and had this patchwork of band aids all over my foot. It was pathetic.

The next day we were flying home and the nightmare didn't end! We were driving back to the airport and were already running late, and we couldn't find the directions on where to return the rental car. We found almost every rental agency but ours! I had lost all my patience and I was yelling at L and I threw the map at her. It was pure drama! We finally found the way to return it, then we had to wait for like 15 minutes to get a shuttle back to the terminal. We were so late! We were going to miss our flight. We got the shuttle and at the terminal we were going to have to run or we were never going to make it to the gate. I could barely walk, let alone run....I couldn't get any shoe (flip flops included) to fit on my foot. So I was running around barefoot with about 20 band aids flopping on my raw and oozing foot! I hobbled as fast as I could to the gate and we made it at the very last minute. We were seated in the back of the plane and I hopped back to get to my seat (which was the middle seat), and I had to beg L to give me her aisle seat so I could stretch out my foot. She was so selfish! Of course, during all of this, the flight attendant took notice of my foot and the pain on my face. I thought for sure she wasn't going to let me fly. I convinced her I was ok and it was just because we ran to the plane.

The whole flight was miserable, my foot was throbbing, stinging, and the pain was unbelievable. I had NOTHING I could take, not even Tylenol. I was suffering and I had to do everything I could not to just cry or scream.

Once we landed back in Chicago, I slowly limped to the baggage claim to get my stuff and make it to my car. L had the nerve to ask me to drive her home, even though she lived downtown and could easily take a cab! I just screamed "NO, I'm going to urgent care!!" I did just that. I drove straight to urgent care with my band aids dangling off my foot at this point and exposing a foot that looked like it had been attacked by a flesh eating virus.

When I arrived at urgent care the nurse asked me if I had poured acid over my foot. She could not believe that I could have such severe burns from just the sun. The burns on my feet were third degree and the doctor said I was lucky I didn't wait any longer or I could have lost my right foot. OMG!!

They gave me bandages and cream to start the healing, but walking on my foot was not possible. Just standing up caused so much stinging pain that I would pass out. I was out of work for over 2 weeks and when I did finally go back I still couldn't get a shoe on my foot, so I had to wear flip flops and people wanted to throw up when they saw my foot.

Needless to say, my Hawaii trip was one of the worst vacations I've ever had, and I still shiver when I think about going back :(

For two years I had a permanent tan line on my feet that looked like I always had a brown sock on. Now, I just have scars that look like birth marks. I am thankful it healed as well as it did.

Never bury your feet in the sand when they are covered in sunscreen!

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