Wedding.

Death.

The holidays.

Death.

My 50th birthday.

Death.

Vacation.

My mom’s terminal lung cancer diagnosis.

It has been one long cycle of emotional whiplash. Every high seemed to be followed by a low before I had time to recover from the last one.

Life keeps moving. Work deadlines still arrive. The dog still needs to be walked. Bills still need to be paid. Laundry still piles up. And somewhere in the middle of all of that, you’re supposed to remember what day it is and figure out how to keep functioning.

The first thing I lost wasn’t my motivation.

It was my routine.

Pickleball? Hardly.

Yoga? Barely.

Meal prep? Not once.

The habits I’d spent years building quietly disappeared under the weight of funerals, probate, caregiving, medical appointments, and work.

Being partially self-employed adds another layer. There isn’t a bereavement policy. There isn’t someone covering for you while you get your feet back under you. You do the work because the work still has to be done.

This year also brought two professional disappointments. I can already look back and see why the first one didn’t work out, and I’m glad about it. The second one still stings, but I can almost view it from the lens of why I’m glad it didn’t work out. It just wasn’t meant to be, timing and all.

Then there’s everything that comes after someone dies.

Not the funeral, but the paperwork and bureaucracy. The people who somehow want to make an already impossible situation even harder.

I don’t have enough distance from that part of the story yet, but I know I’ll get there. Right now, I’m still in the middle of it.

If I know anything at all about myself, it’s that I’m made of resilience and grit. I will eventually pick myself up and keep going.

I’m not writing this because I’ve figured out how to navigate seasons like this.

I haven’t. I’m still looking for my equilibrium after months of extremes.

Sometimes life isn’t asking us to thrive. Sometimes it’s enough just to survive until the next ordinary Tuesday.

And honestly, a plain old Tuesday sounds pretty good to me right now.

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Not because I quit. Life just got in the way (happy one year gallbladder emergency surgery to me!). My travel for work schedule made it impossible to commit to classes and performances. The longer I stayed away, the easier it was to keep saying, “Maybe next session.”

So last night, I finally went back.

I expected to be nervous. I expected to be rusty.

What I didn’t expect was how good it felt.

Maybe it was seeing familiar faces. Maybe it was having a teacher I already knew. Or maybe I’d forgotten that improv is one of the few places where my brain has no choice but to stay in the present.

I’ve always been the person trying to map out a scene before I even walk on stage. The problem is, it absolutely never goes my way! (Shocking, considering no one got a copy of the plan in my head.) I sometimes found myself at a loss because my scene plan was derailed — and rightfully so!

Last night, though, something was different.

Maybe my brain is just tired. Between work, caregiving, and everything else life has been throwing my way lately, I don’t have the energy to overthink every possible outcome.

So instead of planning my next move, I just... responded.

Not perfectly, and not with clever one-liners. I never had those in the first place. I was actually listening, reacting, and being fully present.

It felt less like performing and more like giving my brain a two-hour vacation. Dare I say, almost like a meditation….?

If this is what improv is like for everyone else all the time, I get it now. And I cannot wait to get back to class on Monday. I feel inspired again, and a little less heavy from all of life’s other challenges at the moment.

So, I have to ask... what’s the thing you do to get out of your head for a little while?

I spend way too much time thinking about profile pics and headshots, far more than the average human. There so many freaking apps and platforms that we are asked to upload our profile pic and it’s exhausting to keep track. In this day and age, a good headshot can be used in at least a dozen profiles!

1. Substack

2. LinkedIn

3. Employer or self-employed websites

4. Instagram/Facebook

5. TikTok

6. Slack

7. Google Drive (one for each email account you start!)

8. WhatsApp

9. iPhone Contact (vcard)

10. Bios on your volunteer websites

11. Marco Polo

12. Zoom, Teams, Google Meet virtual meeting sites

Plus…. a million other apps, sites, and platforms. One mistake I think a lot of people make is not updating their headshot as often as they should – including me. Am I supposed to use the same for all of them? How can I make myself look fun and interesting in some (Substack) but professional and capable in others (LinkedIn)? What about my company website? And if I have two Zoom accounts, should I use two different photos so I can keep track of which account I’ve logged in? It’s overwhelming. And selfies are not the answer, friends.

How much mileage can one get from a headshot? Around 2018, our office had headshots taken. I loved mine. The lighting was good, my hair looked good, no complaints. Then we rolled up to 2020, when people were doing at home cut and color (or growing it all out). By 2021, my corporate headshot no longer looked or felt like me. That 2018 girl was living in an alternate reality, when nobody even knew Zoom existed. The lifespan of that headshot was 3 years.

In early 2022, when I started my consulting company with Marsha, the first thing on our to-do list was headshots for our LinkedIn profiles and future company website. We didn’t know exactly what we wanted, but we knew we wanted it to be simple, elegant, polished, minimalist. We coordinated our outfits (navy blazers and jeans) and off we went to Miko Studios in Miami. The results were fantastic – especially considering I had a hair disaster that morning and was not a happy camper. To this day, everyone compliments our joint photos from that shoot.

And now that we are more than halfway through 2025, I desperately need a new headshot. Besides the weight-gain and weight-loss rollercoaster I’ve mentioned, I like to change my hair. A lot. I have long, short, light, dark, bangs, no bangs. Just kidding, bangs for life! It is fun and keeps it youthful. In fact, I think it changed so much from 2018 to 2022 it was almost full circle, because it kind of looks the same LOL.

Again, I wonder so, how much mileage should one get from a headshot? My estimate is 2-3 years. And while I wholeheartedly disagree with the person who called me out on my profile pic, I have totally been on the other side where I saw a photo of someone and immediately thought, who the heck is that?! It can be jarring. More than that, it makes me pause and wonder, what are you hiding behind? If you can’t be your authentic self in a profile picture, will you be authentic with me in business?

This article is written specifically about headshots taken by a professional photographer; it does not include anything about AI headshots.

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In all honesty, I’m not where I thought I’d be at this point in life. Is anyone? But I’m not exactly sure where I think I should be. I am not the kind of person who has life planned out - I’m a little impulsive. I look at opportunities and decide in the moment if it’s for me or not. I didn’t plan to go to Miami for “one semester” in 1997 and know I would stay 25 years. I didn’t plan on enrolling in massage school just to be hired at an international resort. As the girl who worked full-time while going to college part-time for 15 years (and hated it), who could have imagined I’d ever go back? Certainly not me! I made the biggest impulse buy of all - a graduate degree during the pandemic.

I’m trying something totally new and unexpected - I’ve hired an executive coach! I’m very excited for this experience. I am hoping it will uncover some truths about myself and teach me how to leverage both my learned and natural talents. When I do figure it out, I want to feel confident, empowered and ready for opportunity with new insights, knowledge and skills. This is an investment in not only money, but time. There is so much inside work to be done: writing, reflection, and research. While my tendency is to blow through it as quickly as possible, you can’t rush growth.

So here I sit, in Texas, four years after a (semi-impulsive) relocation, asking myself important questions. Who am I? What am I meant to be doing? What’s next? Am I having a mid-life crisis? I’ve been finding my social community in the improv and pickleball circles. What about my professional community? Working 100% remote is a blessing and curse (you remember my mother lives with me, right?). Now what?

Now we do the work. We ask ourselves the hard questions and see how our heart responds. We take in feedback, recalibrate our approach, and try again. Every time I take a dance class at the gym, there is sometimes complicated footwork, the instructor will always say in the most gentle way, “Try again” as we go for round two, or three, or four. It’s not judgy, it’s not critical, it’s encouraging. I am going to adopt this strategy throughout the process and remind myself, it’s okay to try again.

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I was curious to see if any of her thoughts were the same as mine (answer: not so much). It was a weird episode, I found it disjointed and boring, to be honest. However, I was inspired to document my own thoughts watching my favorite HBO Max series, The Gilded Age. I wish I had done it last week — I knew something bad was about to happen as soon as I saw that longing look of love on Oscar’s face - tragic!

So, get ready, here we go - hear are all my thoughts as I watch tonight’s episode, “Ex-Communicated.”

1. Still one of the best open credit intros ever! Beautiful and creative.

2. Wait?! What the heck is happening? Why is everything in Spanish? WTH…..? Let me check my HBO settings. Let me check my TV settings. Let me try again. And again. And again. Let me check Threads. Oh crap. Everyone is complaining the show is uploaded in Spanish. And it has another wild ending! Now what? I have to wait for an HBO techie to fix it?

Okay, let’s try this again, shall we? I’ve changed it to Spanish to listen in English. Phew!

3. I’m guessing this isn’t Peggy’s novel delivered in bulk to bookstores.

4. Oh, Mr. Mcallister, you sneaky devil.

5. Mrs. Fish’s voice changed… ?

6. Mrs. Armstrong loves delivering the bad news.

7. Mr. McAllister is loving life.

8. These feathered hats are wild! I love Mrs. Fish’s hat!

9. Ada is almost out of the black mourning clothes - finally!

10. Agnes basically telling Mrs. Fish - yes, girl, your husband buys cheap wine!!!

11. Haha nobody believes Bertha hasn’t read the book - that side eye!

12. Mrs. Astor is ready to cut him! Mrs. Fish is here for the drama! Excommunicated!

13. Banister listening in and chuckling cracks me up. Too bad Jack is gone and they can’t talk about it downstairs.

14. Ada is so giddy to be treated as Agnes’ equal. Cute but sad. And Agnes - love that dress!!

15. Mrs. Armstrong is living for the gossip book!

16. Bertha Russell says the book makes them look weak, greedy and foolish - she might agree to only one of those descriptors.

17. Bertha’s face at the thought of going to the poor house.

18. Send Gladys back? Oh no she didn’t!

19. What will he do if he can’t pay?

20. Oh, I love the Mr. Church game of telephone to trap the ladies maid.

21. John Adams tragedy… so sad.

22. Here we go. I am waiting for this. What did John leave Oscar????

23. Summer home - check! Money for five years of costs! I knew it.

24. Just enjoy it and remember him. Sweet and sentimental.

25. I hope that the Duke and Gladys fall in love for real.

26. Gladys is coming into her own. And she’s liking it!

27. Don’t snap at your aunt! Love that.

28. Agnes is always bringing it back to her family history - settled by my mother’s family in 1750.

29. Oh Oscar…. so sad. They all know the truth but they won’t say it.

30. What is up with Marian’s weird dresses? This is the second one with that external corset thing. Not loving it.

31. Oscar is a quirky character and one of my faves on this show. We didn’t get to see his sunglasses this episode though.

32. All eyes on the maid! Watch it not be her after all.

33. Oh, Ward McAllister. you thought you were untouchable. Tsk, tsk.

34. Oh, how dare she go through the front door!

35. Look at Ada taking charge! I run this house now, Marian.

36. Peggy, that dress is bold!

37. We’ve all done things we regret - Marian did you not remember kissing the guy in the hotel hallway? Peggy should have reminded her of that one.

38. Oh yeah, he lives across the street, you’re never going to be free.

39. Feathers on feathers on feathers, Bertha.

40. Oh, Ward, snubbed by Bertha. My, how the tides have turned.

41. Then why do it? Unfinished business. I doubt that. It’s entirely finished. For good and all. This is excellent writing.

42. You can’t throw me out of society. I made this society. They are my invention.

43. Oh Mr. McAllister, you have just crossed the line and sealed your fate.

44. Okay now she’s busted. But money is money. Another one sent packing.

45. I wasn’t born a butler…. wonder what that means.

46. Larry - let’s go solve this!

47. I’m nervous about the copper mines. Is Larry being duped? Or is this real?

48. Oh, Larry accusing Bertha! We know what you’re capable of, says George.

49. Oh, snap, and now he’s moving to the club with George. Hilarious.

50. Your ambition is out of control - he’s so smug, that gorgeous George. LOL

51. Marian is the queen of ignorance and fear.

52. Oh Marian - you have just crossed the line! Ada is going to put you in your place!

53. Even when we think we know someone, we usually don’t. How reflective, Bertha.

54. Celebrate at the house of ill repute, a disorderly house, a club. At least his hair looks better that in the last scene.

55. Let’s see how this goes, George. I can’t tell who is telling the truth.

56. Trust no one was always your motto. I won’t die that easily. I’m like a cockroach with a thousand lives. Cast aside, but not out for the count.

57. Bertha, look at how far you’ve risen in the ranks of society. And no family members to see it.

58. Was it enough money to be worth your social ruin?

59. They won’t forgive being reminded they’re ordinary men and women.

60. Giggly laughter at Mrs. Astor giving up the ball. That’s cute.

61. Divorced women can be invited but not you, Ward!

62. Nothing is more perilous than to overestimate your own power. Sounds like you’re being fed your own medicine, Ward.

63. Gladys and Hector are teaming up! I love it! You need some time to yourself, Sarah. Yikes!

64. Jack - finally coming in the last 10 minutes of the show. So cute!

65. I promise you’ll enjoy your new way of life, she says.

66. He’s quite innocent, I promise. Good man, Jack. Marian is always mucking things up!

67. That poor man needs to stretch those hip flexors!

68. Phylicia Rashad got the feathers up high!

69. Oh, let’s get this drama all twisted up on Peggy’s background.

70. All your pawns will be back on the board… harsh!

71. Poor Bertha.

72. Did they rent all those chairs or what?

73. Agnes seems proud of little ol’ Ada.

74. I’m afraid I’m spoken for. That’s one way to say you’re broke! There must be more to that story.

75. She recently broke off an engagement… yeah, her third one. Did anyone remind her that she wasn’t going to be forgiven for the third mistake? This one wasn’t public yet, but it’s still out there.

76. Oh Phylicia Rashad…. you’re so good at being bad.

77. I’ll take that….

And just like that, next week is the season finale.

With only half a stomach, I was able to lose 100 pounds between 2017 and 2020 and still wanted to lose another 70. But then that damn pandemic came around. You can imagine what happened — the dreaded regain! In 2021 I moved to Ft. Worth from Miami and watched the scale go in the wrong direction. By 2023 I had regained 55 lbs. Before the pandemic I lifted weights with a trainer three times a week, went to a dance class on Saturdays and yoga on Sundays. But in Texas I had no gym, no trainer, no dance, no yoga. I tried pilates but it wasn’t enough. Why is all the yoga in Texas hot yoga? It’s hot enough already, man.

Enter onto the scene: GLP-1 medications. I had a tremendous success with Mounjaro right off the bat. I took it for over a year and then I had to pause for a period when Mounjaro was no longer permitted to non-diabetics; and Zepbound, the exact same drug formula, by the same manufacturer, was being rebranded and approved through the FDA for weight loss. Oh, America...

I got back on the shots as soon as possible and was able to lose all of the regain and more. I’m down about 140 lbs and would like to go another 25 or 30 lbs. It might take a long time, and it might never happen, who knows! As long as I’m strong and healthy, able to do what I want to, I’m happy.

Fun fact: In 2022 I lost my remote full-time position with benefits and had to obtain my own health insurance in the marketplace. I went from paying $75/month to $550/month for Zepbound. And that’s with a coupon! Finally, I joined a gym that is an outrageous $200+ a month. I mean, it’s totally worth it, I love it, I have a newfound love for pickleball, and I love the yoga, the dance, and my friends there, but it’s still outrageously expensive. I don’t think I would be where I am today, both physically, and mentally, without both of these tools. No matter what anyone says, they are just tools for you to use to your benefit. They can’t do all the work for you. You have to do your part.

With all of this being said… it’s a day of celebration! And nothing screams celebration more than my neon yellow sequin top! I bought it to wear for my birthday in April 2013 and have worn it on many celebratory occasions since! I have never kept any article of clothing this long — ever! This t-shirt is a legend among my friends, it has traveled the world, and it is a marker of my life in not only weight lost and gained, but of my various hairstyles! Thank you Michael Kors - you really outdid yourself that year! *chef’s kiss*

Please enjoy this timeline of my favorite neon yellow sequin t-shirt.

And yes, I like to document this gem!

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I have probably given a thousand massages over the years, I’ve also had the privilege to received hundreds. If there’s a different type of massage, I want to try it. Whenever I travel, I always try to get a massage just for the experience - highly recommend!

When I had the opportunity to receive a lymphatic massage, I jumped at the chance. They were very trendy a few years ago because celebrities were booking them to flush out any water retention before an event. It’s really great for any post-op procedure where the skin has been cut and there is swelling. Think plastic surgeries on the face or chest, or even a C-section. Clients have had great results after a knee replacement, for example, when you want to keep the swelling down around the joint. But I digress…

My gallbladder surgery was laparoscopic (only 5 minor incisions), and I thought I’d go in for a lymphatic massage to help support healing. In only two weeks since surgery, I had a terrible allergic reaction to something (stitch glue?), a second random rash, and I had flown on a plane twice, which always causes water retention, even though I always were compression socks on flights. VIM & VIGR is the brand I swear by because they come in a ton of colors, patterns, and are available in wide calf, too.

The thing about lymphatic massage is that it’s very light touch. Whatever you’re thinking is light, take away 90% of that. That’s how light it is. It’s very light compressions, and barely there touch in long, flowy movements that effectively sweep the lymph fluid from the swollen area to a nearby joint (neck, armpit, elbow, groin, behind the knee) where the major lymph nodes exist to flush it out.

After 55 minutes on the table, I was very relaxed, albeit kind of cold from having my abdomen exposed the entire time, and my right leg had gone numb. I credit that to a lack of chiropractic adjustments in the past couple of weeks. Yet I was still able to drift off into a very zen state. It was relaxing and I’m happy to check it off my bucket list, but I can’t say for sure I will keep it in my self-care routine. I would probably get the same benefits by dry-brushing at home. But don’t take my word for it, go out and get your own kind of massage, and support your local massage therapist!

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But I can’t lie, I was having some FOMO on that trip because I had planned for three Auntie Angie surprises!

First up, “Auntie Angie’s Pickleball Summer Camp” t-shirts. I was so excited to play with the kids and have our own tournament. I had already been in three beginner leagues and while I was by no means an expert, I know what’s up. Ha! The t-shirts were a big surprise. Sienna helped me design them and pick everyone’s sizes. Halle picked them up from my house so I didn’t have to pack them in my carry-on only bag. Each of the shirts had the person’s name on the sleeve. Because, what’s better than a special event family tee, but a personalized tee, duh! They were a big hit and so cute! I designed the shirts myself in Canva and then had a small business owner (friend of a friend) order the color I wanted (sampled at Michael’s) and print them. I always like supporting a small business owner, when possible.

Once we knew I wasn’t going to Arizona, I had to cancel my flights, car rental, and assign someone else to pick up my grocery order. All of my groceries were fun surprises, too!

I had seen on Instagram a really cute and fun way to make Diet Coke and Root Beer floats! They used a “topless can opener” to remove the top of the soda can, drop in a scoop of Bluebell vanilla ice cream, top with whipped cream, a maraschino cherry, and a bendy straw. How cute! This was my second surprise. The kids had a great time making them, check out Sienna’s video tutorial below. And please don’t judge them for not bending the straws. Auntie Angie reserves the right to judge, though. Haha!

And finally, I am known as the family Crepe Maker. I bought a special crepe pan at Le Cruset many years ago and I use it several times a year. It primarily comes out on holidays or birthdays or just when the little kids come spend the night. Because I was planning a crepe day, I had already sent the pan and tools to be packed in the van. Did I mention they were all going to make it to Arizona via a 14-hour drive? Yikes.

I always use this crepe recipe by Ricardo and while my crepes are not always beautiful, they are always delicious! The crepe recipe includes vanilla and the combination of a sweet crepe with the savory and salty ham and cheese is just perfection! I always make ham and cheese for savory plus a selection of fruit and toppings for sweet. Think bananas, strawberries, blueberries, Nutella, chocolate chips, whipped cream. There are so many more options but these kids are creatures of habit. And so am I, to be fair.

So while I was sorry to miss out on my summer vacation, I was glad they carried on my traditions and surprises. The Auntie Angie vibes were strong, and now we have the t-shirts to prove it.

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In 2011 Holly called me out of the blue in April (I remember it was around my birthday) and excitedly exclaimed, “Angie! I’m getting married! In three months!” My gut reaction and surprise returned an astounding, “To whom???” “Patrick,” she said, “here, he wants to speak to you!” And that was the beginning of a beautiful new friendship.

Pat and Holly were married on a mountain top in Montana on July 16, 2011. I still have the memento matches. As we approach their 14^th anniversary in just a few days, Holly and Pat have allowed me to share a family update, which is devastating news.

Late last year Pat began having some unexplainable health issues. Some of the symptoms were intermittent, like extreme pain in his hip, while some were unrecognizable at the time, like increasing cognitive issues. As months passed, his pain and cognitive dysfunction increased compounded by months of insomnia – literal months – without sleep. He was no longer the Pat we knew and loved because sleep deprivation and pain had transformed him.

During a routine visit to Mayo Clinic, as he had done over the past 20 years since his first cancer diagnosis, he was deemed “free and clear” after a PET scan. But the pain in his hip persisted and there was no explanation. Holly advocated for Pat and insisted it be checked further. Extending their stay in Minnesota for an MRI, Holly and Pat would learn that the pain in the hip was in fact a cancerous tumor located inside the bone that protruded outside the bone. This shocking discovery identified many, many more tumors that had not been visible on the PET scan that were now visible on the MRI, throughout his body and in his spine.

Patrick has Myxoid Liposarcoma, metastasized, stage 4. This is a very rare form of cancer. For months, Patrick’s symptoms presented as signs of dementia, exacerbated without restorative sleep. To say the past 10 months has been a challenge for the family, is an understatement of epic proportions.

Despite the prognosis, Patrick and Holly are determined to pursue every possible option—not just to extend life, but to restore quality of life. That’s why Patrick has chosen an integrated treatment plan, combining traditional chemotherapy with innovative and integrative therapies available in Arizona. These integrative treatments offer hope—but they are not covered by insurance, and the costs are staggering. With Patrick unable to work, and the family facing ongoing travel, housing, and medical expenses, the financial burden is immense.

Pat and Holly have two beautiful daughters who love life and live it to the fullest, just like their parents. When Holly was flying through the air at Cirque du Soleil, Patrick was flying down the mountain on skis. Their daughters, Neve, 12, and Mila, 10, now fly through the air doing flips, twists, and turns, as competitive gymnasts. For this family, quality of life is everything.

"There are two ways of spreading light: to be the candle or the mirror that reflects it." — Edith Wharton

Throughout their lives, Holly and Pat have been the candle—spreading joy, warmth, and strength to everyone around them. Now, in this moment of profound challenge, they need the mirror. They need all of us to reflect that light back—to lift them up with the same love and support they’ve so freely given to others.

Your donation—no matter the size—will directly support Patrick’s treatment, help alleviate the financial stress on their family, and allow them to focus on what matters most: time together, healing, and hope.

👉 Donate via GoFundMe

Thank you for reading, for caring, and for helping us reflect the light they’ve given so generously to others.

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It’s almost back to regular life, except that I get tired easily. I cannot move as quickly as I am accustomed to. And I cannot lift anything over 10 lbs -- this restriction is turning out to be more complicated than I imagined! We’ve been dog-sitting Harley and he weighs around 13 lbs. Whenever I approach him, he flops onto the floor, belly up, demanding all the pets and a cuddle. I went to Costco for groceries and my mom insisted on bringing in all the groceries from the car. Bulk ground turkey meat is heavy but she did it.

I miss pickleball and yoga like crazy but it will be a few weeks before I can return. In the meantime, I’m trying to enjoy this period of rest.

Rest from the hospital poking and proding.

Rest from the early morning gym routine that kicked my butt the week before surgery.

Rest from working.

Rest from my mother. Yes, you read that right! Evelyn has hit the road to visit family and friends in Orange, Texas for the next week. That means I’m left in charge of Snuggles and Meow Meow. Don’t judge me, she named them. And I get the entire house to myself.

Nobody calling out every two hours, “Are you here?”

Nobody asking me every morning, “What are you doing today?” “Are you going to pickleball or yoga or improv?” “Until what time do you have meetings?”

Nobody reminding me on Sunday night, “Trash day is tomorrow!” as if I haven’t taken out my own trash for my entire adult life without a reminder from my mommy.

Nobody in my mental headspace. Ahhhh, I feel relaxed already. Just knowing that once I clean the kitchen there will be no more coffee splatter drops on the counter for an entire week is delightful!

Ahhhhh, listen to that… it’s the gentle hum of the dishwasher inviting me to go for a nap while I sit in my meditation chair, typing, Snuggles tucked into the left side of the armchair. Heavenly.

Backstory

In a routine physical and bloodwork, they found some elevated values. I went for an ultrasound of the liver and gallbladder. BINGO! I had a hot pocket gallbladder filled to the brim with these tiny little torture devices. But I was uninformed, and I thought I had no symptoms, and I saw no urgent need to see a specialist. I didn’t think twice about an incident a few weeks prior when I had a horrible hot flash, nausea and vomiting - I thought that was perimenopause! Who knew?!

This happened one more time and after some medical Googling, I decided to find a specialist. We determined I would have elective surgery to remove the gallbladder, let’s call him GB, on July 31 - after my vacation and the surgeon’s vacation. All I had to do was avoid alcohol, Tylenol, and a eat low fat diet.

Fast forward to July 4 weekend in Austin, where I totally forgot about good old GB, when I enjoyed some brisket, mac & cheese, and champagne! At four o’clock in the morning of Saturday, July 5, the tiny torture devices were in full effect. I managed to drive the three hours back to DFW, sit three hours at my hair appointment, and perform at a student showcase at the improv theater that night. I wasn’t feeling great, but it was manageable.

The next morning I went about business as usual, until I had the audacity to eat something! About 15 minutes later, I was very unwell. Pain and nausea were out of control. And then the vomiting started. This was not going to improve without medical intervention, so I prepared to go to the ER.

Headed to the ER

This being my first time going to the ER (as a patient, not a passenger), I wanted to be prepared. I took a quick shower and grabbed my overnight bag from Austin, threw in some extra undies, PJs, and my iPad. I already had all my toiletries and chargers. Off I went! The 20-minute drive was excruciating. I made it to the ER parking lot but not before I had to pull over and vomit. Yuck.

Once inside the ER, I got the feeling Dr. Magee had been there, done that, and my little GB problem was not going to require emergency surgery (so many dramatic patients never did). But to our surprise, blood levels were through the roof indicating infection, and it was time to get a CT scan and MRI of the abdomen.

By this point my sister arrived. Did I mention we were all supposed to leave to Arizona on vacation on Monday? I didn’t want to land in an out-of-state hospital, so this was the prudent option. What my sister didn’t tell me, is that she had just had an MRI and was extremely claustrophobic! I had no idea if I would be, or not, but I was ready to go. Guess what, I’m not! In fact, it was hard for me to stay awake during the breathing and breath-holding routine. I was so relaxed. The tech told me I was a “beautiful breather” and my images were perfect, none had to be redone. I give all the credit to yoga (and meditation)!

Results

The CT scan and MRI confirmed those raucous gallstones were throwing a party and the pancreas did not like it! He was the old neighbor and was up in arms about it! It was time to check in for a longer stay.

It was bag after bag of IV fluids, antibiotics, potassium and magnesium. Bloodwork drawn several times a day. All waiting for the MRI results to be reviewed and a decision made - which procedures and in what order. Yes, the GB party was in overflow mode - some of those stoners wandered out of the house and into the woods (the bile duct). They were lost, couldn’t get back, and search and rescue would need to be called.

ECRP

ECRP, aka search and rescue, aka Endoscopy, is the procedure where a GI doctor goes in through the mouth with a scope, sprinkles some magic fairy dust (ink), and rounds up all the obnoxious party stoners and their trash (bile). Gross.

That glorious procedure happened on this morning. It went well, sounds really gross, and I learned two things about this.

1. ECRP is done stomach down and your neck is turned to one side for the duration. Ouch.

2. For some explanation I cannot recall, they shove a suppository up the bum beforehand. I don’t know why, and I don’t care to Google that one. But you can, if you want.

I was promised solid foods after this procedure but I was swindled back to full liquids. Think Jello, pudding, yogurt, grits. I ordered beef broth. And it was basically chemicals disguised as food in water. Yum. But at least I had Diet Coke!

Not sure if the DC and the empty stomach are not vibing, but the intestines are making some noise!

The best part about the ECRP was that when it was over, I took a shower, washed my hair, and climbed right back into my hotel hospital bed. Have I mentioned I’m enjoying the stay? Except for the part where the IV machine beeps constantly. I hate it.

I’m sorry to miss out on Auntie Angie’s Pickleball Summer Camp 2025 in Scottsdale, but everything happens in the right timing. I’m actually very grateful to be here, even if it will cost me $ on my low premium, high deductible marketplace insurance. C’est la vie!

Tomorrow

Tomorrow is the scheduled Lap Chole (gallbladder removal surgery). I’m anticipating going home in the late afternoon. Sleeping in my own bed and getting rid of this IV are the top two things I’m most looking forward to! And cuddles from Snuggles and Harley will be nice, too.

Until then, stay hydrated, folks. I do not see the IV therapy in my future!

So alas, here is my Substack. What is it supposed to be? A blog? A newsletter? A rant on a topic that is only relevant to me? It remains to be seen, and boy am I excited! I remember around 2004 one of my coworkers asked the office, “What’s a blog?” Boy, if we knew then what we know now. Maybe I would have started cooking and created the world’s best recipe blog! Nah, sounds like too much work. But I’ll start a Substack now and we’ll see how it goes.

So for now, I’ll just sit back, write a few things, and see where the wind blows me. I hope you’ll bear with me as we figure stuff out in this Substack. As with everything in life, it’s a work in progress.

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