Final Destination: Debbie vs. Pitchfork

I've watched the Final Destination movies a lot, and I always think when I watch them how reasonable it is that some of those things that happened, could actually happen! I mean it's not that far fetched that a series of random events can occur and lead to one's death. Then again, maybe it just seems reasonable to me, because random acts happen in my life almost on a daily basis...food for thought.

Speaking of which, this leads me to my own personal Final Destination moment I had the other day. I was driving in to work along Interstate 5, and it was an unusually blustery day in San Diego. My car was swaying all over the road and there was debris flying around all over. I found myself behind a large truck that had a lot of equipment in the back and what looked like a lot of yard tools. I did think for a moment that it would be bad if anything flew out of his truck, but it all looked secure to me. I wasn't tailgating him, in fact, I kept a reasonable distance because on that stretch of the 5, traffic tends to come to sudden halts all the time.

I was maybe 10 minutes from work, still behind the yard tool truck, and there was a sudden gust of wind that really shook my car....and then before I knew it there was a loud smash and a pitchfork grazed by my head just short of piercing through my face. I had no view out my front window and I suddenly panicked by the whole event, and lost control of my car. I was in the far left lane, and I still had sense enough to swerve to the left to avoid colliding with any traffic in the lanes next to me. I slammed on my breaks and skidded off the side of the road and came to a stop. My heart was racing, I thought I may have even peed my pants, and I couldn't move. I was frozen like a deer in headlights. I couldn't quite comprehend what had just happened. I very slowly tried to glance to the right to see if that really was what I thought it was...being very careful not to move an inch, because I had no idea what the status of this "thing" was, I moved my eyes to the right and made out the sharp piercing prongs of a pitchfork right next to my head. I couldn't help but think "really?? could this possibly happen to anyone else but me?!" Sometimes, even I have a hard time believing this stuff really happens to me. I mean, c'mon, near death by pitchfork?!

The truck that had lost the pitchfork saw me lose control of my car and realized what had happened. He pulled over not far ahead of where I stopped and came back to see if I was ok. There also happened to be a cop car that was only 3 cars behind me and had already pulled over at this point. I was trying to calm myself because my heart was racing out of control. The cop came up to me and tried to open my door, but my doors were locked. He knocked on the window and told me to open the door. I opened the door and he was like "holy hell, is that a pitchfork??" I jumped out of the car at this point, just wanting to get away from it, before it really became a Final Destination scene and I ended up with a pitchfork through my head. That's really not what I want on my obituary. Sure, I don't really want the boring "died of natural causes", but I'd rather have something exciting like plunging to my death off a cliff rather than a pitchfork through the head.

Anyway, the cop was writing up the incident and then they pulled the pitchfork out of the windshield and called for a tow truck, since I couldn't drive my car without being able to see out the front! I debated sending an email to my managers explaining why I was going to be a little late that morning, but I didn't. I don't think they fully understand the random acts of debbie, and the few incidents I have had to share (swallowing my tooth, crashing on the motorcycle) they have found ridiculous, so having a pitchfork nearly kill me would probably not be something they could handle or believe. So, I had the car towed to work, and said nothing to my co-worker or my managers about the incident, and called the windshield repair people to come out and fix her up!

I'm a little traumatized driving behind any vehicle that has anything in the back now. I had a truck cut me off yesterday that had plywood in the back and all I could envision was one of those sliding out the back and decapitating me. So, I took an early exit just to get away from it. I think it will take time before I stop seeing everything as a Final Destination scene!

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

Why are my pants wet...was that pee?!

Have you ever had one of those days where you feel like a dark cloud is following you wherever you go and anything that could go bad does? I had one of those yesterday.

I started the day with the complete inability to get out of bed. I felt sluggish and despite sleeping for 8 hours, felt like all I wanted to do was sleep. It took some major mental battling to convince myself to get in the shower and start my day.

First incident of the day began there. I was so out of it in the shower that when I reached for the shampoo I got the body wash instead. Ya, that doesn't wash your hair so well. Then, I completely forgot that I had removed the rug in front of my shower because it had been drenched from my flooding wash machine the night before...so when I stepped out I slipped on floor and hit my head on the toilet. No better way to say good morning than with a slight concussion.

I ventured off for work, trying to remain optimistic that my day could only improve, after all I did make it through breakfast and down the garage stairs successfully! Then I hit the freeway and nothing but gridlock. I felt like I was living the movie Office Space, because I would be sitting still in my lane watching the lane next to me zoom along. Naturally, I jumped into the zooming lane only for it to come to a dead stop and my original lane began to zoom. I'd like to say I'm smart, but I did this hop several more times with the same result.

I made it to work just in the nick of time for my 9am conference call and then I was stuck from 9 until Noon on nothing but conference calls, not even a minute to breath in between each one. All I had in my head were visions of a bed and a pillow...heck, who am I kidding, the floor in the office was appealing to me at that point.

The highlight of my day was when the clock struck 3 and I was able to leave for the day. All I wanted to do was get home and take a little nap before walking to my kettlebell workout that evening.

I got home only to find my bathroom flooded yet again and had to whip out the shamwow to start sopping up the water. Although, I have to say this was another highlight, because I finally got to use the shamwow my mom gave me. This made her very happy, despite the circumstances in which I was using it.

By the time I finished the shamwow clean up project it was time to go to make it to my workout. The walk to the studio is about 3.5 miles, and is usually no problem for me at all. However, right from the start my feet were hurting, I felt like I was 80 because everything ached, and I was hungry. I walked miserably for 40 minutes until I got to Evolution (vegan fast food) and all I wanted was a date nut ball. It was the only thing I had thought about for the last 40 minutes. I went to the shelf where it normally is and nothing, they were all gone...all that was left was a apricot jewel cookie (definitely not my fave). I needed something, there was no way I would finish the walk or have energy to workout without some kick. I bought the stupid apricot cookie. As I walked out I spotted a woman sitting out front eating a date nut ball. It took everything I had not to pounce on her and take my date ball!! That was meant for me!!

Continuing on my walk to Hillcrest, I became more and more sluggish and then just as I was trying to give myself another pep talk that I could make it...I heard buzzing. Then I felt something on my back. I quickly realized a bee had made its way under my jacket and my shirt and got trapped buzzing around under there. I flipped out, because that's what I do, and I was kind of flailing and doing a retarded bee dance, when I felt the sting. Well, at least that resolved the bee issue, but ouch!! Luckily (which is never the case for me), I am not allergic to bees. I pulled the stinger out of my back and carried on with my walk.

Once I got to the studio to workout, I was greeted with a smile and the upbeat attitude of Farrah! Yay! I figured I would put all my woes behind me and get excited for my workout! However, I still felt like poo. I tried to power through the workout, I really did want to do my best, but from the start everything seemed a million times harder than normal. The turkish get-ups felt like torture. Every roll to the side felt like someone was crushing all my bones. The bee sting was still throbbing a bit. Towards the end I felt that apricot cookie making its way up and I fought to keep it down. I made it through the workout, but was enormously disappointed in myself.

I left feeling a bit defeated and dreading the 3.5 mile walk home. It might as well have been 100 miles. I didn't make it far when the apricot cookie started to make its way up the esophagus again. Only this time I couldn't keep it down. I leaned against a mailbox in front of a wienerschnitzel and up it came. Blah! Then I realized there was an entire table of people at wienerschnitzel eating chili dogs. I think I probably ruined their appetite. Very sorry!

I paused for a minute, regained my composure, and trudged along. As I approached Balboa park, I was starting to feel beyond terrible. My stomach was making insane noises. My head was pounding. My legs felt like jello and I had no will to keep walking. I thought maybe if I just sat down for a second I would be ok. I spotted the playground and the swings. I headed over to them to sit and rest for a second on a swing. It was dark by this time and there weren't really any lights on the playground. I made my way to swing and leaned back to sit. As soon as I made contact my pants started to feel wet. I knew it hadn't rained lately, so what could have possibly been wet on the swing?! I sat up and then I leaned down and sniffed the seat to see if I could identify what it might have been. That's when I smelled what could only be described as pee. I sat in kid pee!!! Ugh, this is why I will not change my mind about having kids! Now I had to walk 2 more miles home soaked in kid pee...do you know how disgusting that is???

I went home, bathed to get the kid pee off of me, skipped dinner entirely, and just laid on the bed like a lump. At this point I felt like I couldn't even move. Plus, my head was still pounding and I swear to you my stomach was making noises that were not human. I should have recorded it, because I probably could have sold it to some production company for a horror film.

Since I isolated myself to being a lump on the bed, I pretty much limited any further injury for the evening, although I contemplated a trip to urgent care to investigate what was ailing me...but I thought I would hedge my bets and stay put. With the day I had, I could only imagine what tragedy awaited me outside the confines of my bed.

I wish I could say today was better, but the highlights of my day were work emergencies, plumbers bursting pipes in my bathroom and sending water gushing all over my house, water extraction teams dragging copious amounts of equipment into my house, and appliance technicians with plumbers crack and passing gas more than any human should...it's just a day in the life of Debbie.

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

nom..nom..nom...crap! was that my tooth?!

I recently went to the dentist to have a crown put on one of my molars. They had placed a temporary crown in my mouth while the permanent one was being created, which was going to take 2 weeks. However, that was a week before I was leaving for Portland for the holidays. I was going to be gone for over 2 weeks and I really didn't want to go through Christmas and New Years with a temporary crown in my mouth. So, they put a rush job on the permanent crown to get it in time before I left.

I was leaving on Friday and I got a call on Thursday that the crown was in and I could come in Friday afternoon to have it put in. That was perfect! Just in time! Lucky...or so I thought.

The dentist was not gentle in the least yanking the temporary crown off and then, even though I told him the tooth was still VERY sensitive, he kept spraying cold water directly on it and then blowing air on it to dry the area. I was in some serious pain! I just kept thinking "it's almost over and then I'll be going home!" When he was finished the tooth felt very strange to me, definitely didn't feel natural like other crowns I got and I was throbbing in pain...but I had more important things to do, like pack and catch my flight!

I went home and headed for the airport where I was catching my flight to SFO and then connecting on to PDX...yay! Well, not so yay, because there was fog that day. Damn you fog! Due to this fact, our plane was forced to circle and circle and circle before landing in SFO. By the time we landed, I missed my connecting flight and then all flights after that shut down going to Portland. Boo! I was stuck in SFO for the night. The point of me sharing this?? The tooth was killing me the whole time! I had nothing to ease the pain, until finally a very kind lady that overheard me sobbing on the phone to my mom, gave me an excedrin. Relief!

So, I managed through my two plus weeks at home with this so-called permanent crown. Everything I ate hurt, flossing hurt, brushing hurt. It was awful. When I got back to San Diego, I had planned to call the dentist to get an appointment and have him look at why it was bothering me so much. However, I came back sick as a dog and I was down and out for over a week. During that time, the tooth seemed to calm down, so I thought I was in the clear and my dental trauma was behind me. I was wrong....

I decided since the tooth was feeling better, I would go ahead and enjoy a piece of gum. I hadn't had gum in nearly a month because of my tooth misery. I was chewing happily for all of a minute and then I was like "what the heck?!" and I realized quickly that my PERMANENT crown had just popped off with my gum. That's not supposed to happen! I have 3 permanent crowns in my mouth and NONE of them ever popped off in the last decade with gum, taffy, are anything else.

I managed to pop the tooth back into place and it seemed to stay in there pretty secure. I called the dentist the next day to inform them it had popped off and that I needed to come in and have it re-cemented. They made an appointment for me two days later to come in. Seemed like the end was near for this saga...but again...no.

The next night I made a potato dish with veggies and spices and as I was eating it, the crown popped off and then I managed to choke and down it went! Yup, that's right, I swallowed my tooth! What was I going to do now?!

I went to my scheduled dental appointment the next day, I did not call ahead to tell them I swallowed the tooth. When I got there, the receptionist greeted me kindly and said "this should be quick, Debra!" Then, I said "maybe not....I..ugh...swallowed the crown". I thought she would find this shocking, but she seemed to think it was quite normal. I'm beginning to doubt this dentist's ability to secure crowns in people's mouth. Anyway, prior to the dentist coming out to talk to me, I asked the receptionist what the cost impact would be and if I was financially responsible for a new crown, since it fell out. She then explained to me that I could "recover" the crown I swallowed and bring it in and they would "clean" it for me and place it back in my mouth. Um, hello?! You want me to "extract" the tooth that I have now digested...which in itself is a disgusting thought...but then you want to put the poop tooth back in my mouth?? EW!! No way I would ever go for that. Luckily, as I was gagging at the thought of what she was describing and my face showed utter disgust, the dentist came out and was briefed on "the swallowing incident" and said they still had my temporary and would order a NEW crown. Thank goodness! He then confessed they only used temporary cement and it was their fault. Good grief!

So, here it is a week and a half later and my temporary is still holding strong, but no news on the permanent. I'm hoping this happened for a reason and the dentist has a chance to redeem himself and do this crown right! I'm just thankful I didn't have to "recover" the crown.

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

No..you cannot have my shoes or my dinner!

I was walking home from my kettlebell workout last week and it was already dark when I left the studio in Hillcrest. I had about 3.5 miles to go to get home. Normally, when it is dark outside, I stick to more well lit areas. Balboa park along 6th is usually the safest bet. However, on this evening I was tired and just wanting to get home, so I just kept going down 5th avenue. It's not that 5th is unsafe, but there is a section of seedy bars and dark desolate areas scattered along the route.

I had stopped at Evolution to get dinner, since it was so late, and I wouldn't have time to fix anything when I got home. I was carrying it in a brown paper bag. As I was walking, I saw a couple blocks in front of me a man that was stumbling and shouting out at nothing. He was clearly homeless and clearly drunk. I would usually try to avoid these types of characters and change direction, but I was at a point where there was really no other direction to go. I moved forward and as we met along the sidewalk he moved in front of me, I moved to the side, and he moved to the side. Then he said "I want your shoes and what's in the bag!" I pushed past him to continue on my walk and he grabbed my arm and tried to take the bag out of my hand. I gave him the palm thrust to the nose and broke it! Then I said "you can't have my shoes or my dinner!" I'm pretty protective of my shape-ups and my sweet potato fries!!

I felt really good that I had protected myself, but then I felt pretty bad that I broke a homeless guys nose. I probably could have just pulled myself out of his grip, he was drunk after all. I guess I can just add beating up homeless people next to beating up and tasering children on my list of things that are sending me straight to hell :)

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

Brown Box Stalker

I arrived home one night and there was a package at my door. It was a plain brown box and it had my name written across the top "for Debbie". There was no sign the box had come through the mail, so my only assumption was that someone left this at my door in person. Of course, given my history with stalkers and just crazy people in general, my instant reaction was that this box was dangerous.

I cautiously took the box inside my house and I promptly placed it on the balcony. I figured if it was explosive, that was the safest bet! I contemplated opening it, but given the circumstances of how it just appeared at my door with no note or information, I couldn't bring myself to do it. The next day when I arrived home from work there was another brown box with no note or shipping labels. I brought it inside and sat it with the other box. I saw my neighbor (affectionately known as hot neighbor) in the hall and I asked him if he had seen anyone leaving those boxes at my door. He said no, but that he had seen a tall dark haired guy lingering around the hallway earlier in the day, but he wasn't familiar. This set my mind at ease a little that it wasn't my previous stalker - Daniel (also known as number one), because hot neighbor knew what Daniel looked like.

The curiosity was getting the best of me, I had to know what was in these boxes. Taking a risk (which is what we Aries do!) I opened the first box. I found it filled with fruit - apples, pears, and oranges. I scoured the box to find a note, card, anything. Nothing but fruit. Was the fruit poisoned? Maybe it would be arsenic poisoning again! I sat it aside. I opened the second box and found it contained a pink hoodie. Pink? Really? Who did I know that thought I liked pink? Although, I did kind of like it, and I love hoodies. I was left baffled...fruit and a hoodie. What could these two things possibly mean and why was there no note??

I put those presents aside, hesitant to eat the fruit or to wear the hoodie. The next day when I came home there was another brown box. I now affectionately referred to the person leaving this box as the brown box stalker. Given the fact the other two boxes didn't explode, I went ahead and opened this one right away. It was a scarf. Hmm. It had been unreasonably chilly in San Diego and I am always cold as it is, so it was thoughtful. However, I was still incredibly confused as to what these presents meant and who was giving them to me!

The next day, like clockwork, there was another box! This time it was vegan belgian chocolates. A clue! The person knew I was a vegan. That means it had to be someone that knew me or knew me through someone else. Then again, it could just be someone stalking me that noticed I eat at Evolution at lot! Given my luck, I figured it was the latter. I hesitated to eat a chocolate, but they did look incredibly delicious! I risked it and ate one. I didn't get ill or die, so I was beginning to think this was a friendly stalker.

Not to my surprise I found another brown box the next day. This one was large. When I opened it up I found the following:

Large blanket
Feather pillow
Bottle of wine
Scrabble Flash
Rock'em Sock'em Robots
Just Dance WII Game

Guitar Hero WII Game
Despicable Me DVD

Admittedly, most of these items were cool and I was excited, but this seemed to be strange (not to mention expensive!). I really had no clue who it was. I did get a little concerned it might be my ex from Michigan, because he used to own a Rock'em Sock'em Robot game and we played with it all the time. I thought it was an odd gift for anyone to give to a person unless they really knew you and knew you liked it. I was dreading that it could be him, because I really wanted nothing to do with him and thought I had successfully eliminated him from my life.

I engaged the help of hot neighbor, because he was home a lot during the day and I figured he could kind of play spy for me. He said he would keep an eye out and then he remembered he had this spy cam thing that was a white elephant gift he received. We rigged it up so that it was on his door and pointing to my door. I was working from home in the afternoon that Friday and was hoping I might catch the stalker in the act. With me at home and the spy cam on, we thought for sure we'd catch him!

Unfortunately, nothing occurred up to the point I had to leave for my trainer that evening and hot neighbor said he had to leave at 6. Darnit! I went off to my personal training session and contemplated the brown box stalker. I wondered if I would have a new box when I got home that evening.

When I got back that night I found a note on my door. It was from hot neighbor and it just said "I have your box at my place, come by and get it". He wasn't home that night, so I figured I would go by in the morning, which is what I did. He wasn't answering the door. A little later that day, I got a text message from hot neighbor that said "you can come by and get your box now". I went next door and knocked. He answered and he was wearing this sandwich board contraption that looked like a brown box. On the front it said "for Debbie". It didn't sink in right away, so I stood there kind of confused and he said "I'm your next brown box!" HOLY CRAP!! Hot neighbor was my brown box stalker!! What?!

He said he wanted to be creative in how he asked me out, because he knows that I'm adventurous and I like excitement. He told me the content of the last box was meant to be items to help us plan a date. Ha! Too funny! I was beyond shocked. I was always attracted to hot neighbor (obviously, since I call him hot neighbor!), but I didn't think he liked me like that at all! Although, I was a tiny bit hesitant because 1) he was a neighbor and we all know my background dating neighbors and 2) he was a bit mysterious and shady. However, that didn't stop me. I agreed to go on a date with him!

Our first date was planned for Friday, but prior to that on Thursday I came home early from work and ran into hot neighbor in the parking garage. He said he was about to take out his motorcycle for a ride in OB. He asked me if I wanted to go along and he offered to let me drive it if we found an obscure place. Yay! I should have known, though, that me getting on a motorcycle was probably a bad idea! I went anyway. We headed to OB and we were riding along and a cat jumped out into the street. Hot neighbor, being an animal lover, swerved to avoid the cat but he did it too quickly and too sharp and it caused me to fly off the back and roll across the street and slam into a parking meter...ouch! The bike fell over onto hot neighbor. We both had to go to urgent care. My wounds were minor and consisted of just some contusions and scrapes. Hot neighbor had 3 bruised ribs. Bruised ribs are no fun!

Despite our accident, we agreed to still go out for our Friday date! I was stiff and sore and he hurt when he took a breath, we were quite the pair! Before our accident he had planned a surprise date, but he said with our injuries (more his than mine), it would probably be a challenge (I'm curious what it was!). The date was still a surprise, I had no idea where we were going or what we were doing. We drove to the marina and he led me to a boat. I love boats! Turns out he owns one...nice! He drove us out on the boat and then surprised me with an entire vegan meal that he had personally prepared just for me! It was pretty romantic and we had a really great time. He said next week we will go on the date he originally planned. I can't wait to see what that is!

I don't know how this will turn out, but if I'm anything, it's optimistic! I have to say it was the most creative way anyone has ever asked me out, so if nothing else it makes for a great story!

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

Stop licking me!!

I was in San Francisco last week for a work meeting. I chose to use BART as my method of transportation, because let's face it, having a car in San Francisco can be a pain in the ass. I had client meetings all day and had ventured out in between to Berkeley to have lunch with Charlie. So, I had been on the BART a lot already. By the time I was wrapping up my day and getting back on the BART to head for the airport I was tuckered!

I got on the BART at Powell Street and settled in for my ride to the airport. I put my headphones on and entertained myself with a little Lady Gaga. Despite the fact that I ate a lot at lunch and had half a cinnamon roll, I was feeling a little hungry. So, I took out a clif bar from my backpack and started nibbling at it. I had my backpack next to me and it was looking rather comfortable for me to lean my head on, so I did. I hadn't finished eating my clif bar, I was still holding it in my hand.

I remember nothing after this until the event I'm about to describe, because I apparently went straight to sleep once my head hit that backpack. I told you I was tuckered!

I probably wouldn't have woken up for a quite a while and most likely would have missed my flight, had the disgusting and foul individual on the BART not done what happened next. What was that you ask? Well, let me paint you a picture of what had happened when I fell asleep. I leaned my head on the backpack and was still nibbling on the clif bar. Then I fell asleep and the clif bar ended up sticking to my cheek. A homeless individual (or I'm assuming homeless based on his look and smell) was sitting across from me and saw me fall asleep with the clif bar. He came over to where I was sitting and was licking my cheek where the clif bar was. I awoke instantly and was completely stunned and dazed by what was happening. I sat up quickly and was like "what are you doing?! Stop licking me!!" I had drool dripping down one side of my face and clif bar still stuck to the other side, now covered in homeless slobber. The homeless man just scoffed and said "I was hungry and you wasn't eatin' it!" Ew, ew, ew!! I was searching desperately at this point for anything to wipe my face...hand sanitizer, wet nap, anything! Why did he have to lick me, he couldn't just pull it off my cheek??

I flung the clif bar off my cheek and it hit the floor. The homeless man promptly picked it up and said "thanks, it's easier to eat this way." An older lady sitting two rows behind me and noticing my suffering quickly offered up a wet one antibacterial wipe and I frantically cleansed my face.

I do have to thank the homeless licker for waking me up in time to make my flight, but I am still disturbed by the event and may have trauma if I try to ride the BART again. Lesson to myself and to all...don't fall asleep on the BART, and if you do, make sure you don't have sticky food attached to your face.

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

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!