Where did he go?

A friend of mine from high school and college told me we lost a high school friend. I wanted to ask, "Where did he go?" Because at our age, we're too young to be losing people. It's not time for our schoolmates to start dying on us.

Yet, it's happened. This isn't the first school mate that has passed, but he's still one of the first and someone I spent a lot of time with in high school. So this one hits very close to home.

We're not young anymore. And this is the age that we start losing people. This is when people start having heart problems and contracting cancer. One out of 3 women contract cancer. 1 in 5 die from it. Think about your closest friends. Which one of them will it be? Men's outlook is even more dire. 1 out of 2 contract. 1 out of 4 die.

My mantra about life being short is sad but true. This is why I live big. I admit to
having used questionable judgment at times, but I learn from my mistakes and have few regrets. If I make it to old age, I don't want to be sitting around with my 50 cats saying to myself, "if only I'd done_____" or "I wish I would have tried_____" I want to have done all the things.

I also want to make an impact on the people around me. I want help, nurture, and support my family and friends. And if I've had a falling out, I want to be content with the lengths I have gone to to make amends.

When it's all over, I hope to look back at my life and not lament the things I never did. I want to go out satisfied that I'd lived life fully, leaving as few failures as possible in my wake.

Book Review: The Fault In Our Stars by John Green

The Fault in Our Stars by John Green
My rating: 4 of 5 stars

This is the first John Green book I’ve read, though I’ve wanted to read him for a long time. You know the phrase, so many books, so little time…anyway, I HAD to read it before I saw the movie, so it was time and here are my thoughts:

I thoroughly enjoyed the characters in this book. Green writes them very well, they are unique, and descriptive and you truly get a feel for what they are going through. Both sets of parents, Augustus’ and Hazel’s have just the right balance of strong, yet on-the-brink-of-breaking-down. I love that her father is the sensitive one. I think we often see fathers as being the strong and unemotional, but the truth is, they can be as vulnerable and expressive as their female counterparts.

I adored Hazel and Augustus and found their relationship sweet and affecting. I loved their silly banter, their quick wits, and sarcasm. They are actually much like me, which I liked. Couple things that bugged me, both of them had odd names. There are just not many Hazels and Augustus’ out there anymore. Their vocabulary both in dialogue and internally seemed WAY over their heads. I understand the wisdom of the dying youth, and the fact that these two are incredibly intelligent, but I still don’t think teenagers would talk and think the way they do at times. Sometimes yes. As often as they do? No. Also the calling each other by full names and first and middle names cute at first, but through the whole book, a little irritating. And the over use of “um.” Um? That’s just my ticky tacky stuff.

This brings me to Green’s writing skills, I think he is an amazing and beautiful writer. He makes putting words to paper look effortless and seamless, which, as a writer, I know it is not. It’s obvious he took a great amount of time to research the subject matters spoken of in this book , i.e. cancer, treatments, Amsterdam, and it felt like they mattered to him.

I guess I’m among the minority that found the story just good and not earth-shattering. I liked it yes, I’m not sure I loved it. I’m not a big crier when I read, and I did not cry while reading this either. The only time I remember getting a little emotional is when Hazel spoke to her mom about not being a mom anymore. There are books that have resonated with me more.

However, as I said before, I liked the book, I loved the characters, John Green’s writing is impressive, the storyline, noble. I will read the other John Green books on my shelf. This would be a 3.5 for me, but Goodreads doesn't allow 3.5 so I'd rather up it than down it.

Do I recommend it? Yes. If you like books about cancer, books that make you cry, books like Deadline by Chris Crutcher, Thirteen Reasons Why by Jay Asher, The Pull of Gravity by Gae Polisner and any other of John Green’s books.


View all my reviews

I went to Vegas

And as I was having a great time in Vegas , people were dying in a tornado in Oklahoma.

And while I was having a great time in Vegas, a 18 year old boy succumbed to cancer.

But it's things like this that brought me to Vegas in the first place. I wrote a book last year. It was about a boy, much like the boy, Zach Sobiech, who died of cancer yesterday. It was about a boy who wanted to say goodbye. A boy who wanted to make a difference, even if it was a small one, before his time on earth was over. A boy who wanted to remind people that you only get once chance to live your life, and that you shouldn't take it for granted.

Though it was my message, I didn't live up to it, not until recently at least. But then people in my life started getting cancer. And people in my life started dying.

So I started living.

I'm publishing a book.

I'm kickboxing.

I'm getting out of my comfort zone.

Then a guy I'd never met asked me to go to Vegas and I said yes. 

Don't get me wrong. I've known him virtually for a while now, and I insisted we meet in person before  I actually made a final decision. So we hung out a couple times then I decided to go.

I went because at any moment I could take my last breath and leave this world without ever having seen Las Vegas and that would have been sad.

We continued to hang out until we went and we got along great and had a lot of fun together and we had a blast in Vegas, all while people lost their lives in different parts of the country.

But I don't think they'd mind much because we were taking advantage of the life that was given to us.

I hope when I die people are out there living life to the fullest. I know when I leave this place people will mourn my death, but I hope they don't do it for long. I hope they move on quickly and find solace in the memories they have of me whether I was their daughter, sister, mother or friend.

 I hope  they remember me when my spirit soared and how I tried to live like at any moment I could
get hit by a bus, or a piano could fall on my head or we could finally get that huge earthquake they've been promising for years and my world could come crumbling down around me, taking me with it.

But until that happens, I went to Vegas, and I know Zach Sobiech had huge Vegas moments, and I hope most of those who perished in Oklahoma had their Vegas moments.

Make sure you don't forget to take your Vegas moments. One day, you may not have the chance.

Love and Life,

Megan

Wednesday Writing: An Unbalanced Line

From my rewrite and now round of revisions. I'm typing them up right now. This is toward the beginning when my protagonist, Chelsea, loses her mom to cancer. Tell me what you think.

By the time the doctors found the cancer, it was already widespread so the attempts at chemo and radiation proved to be futile. They gave her four to six months. We had no family to speak of. Mom’s parents were long dead, having been taken from this earth by a crackhead mugger. I had no aunts and uncles on my mom’s side, as she was an only child. My parents divorced when I was six and my dad lived a couple states away along with his sister and my Grandma Frankie—that’s short for Francesa. My mom had lots of friends though, and they took turns coming in and helping out, along with hospice, but mostly my mom’s best friend, Suki,.

I felt so helpless as I sat by her side and watched her hair fall out, as she disintegrated in her own bed, as her body grew weaker and more frail by the day, then finally as she silently slipped out of consciousness. Her already labored breath would catch, and her chest would heave when it became too painful even to breathe. I slept when she finally died after just three months, and I was glad for it. I wouldn’t want to have watched her take her last breath.

     Upon waking that morning, I went downstairs to find Suki and an odd pair of undertakers in my living room. The first undertaker was just like the ones you see in the movies. His name was George and he was very tall and pale with dark hair and a deep voice. The other’s name was George too. I know, too weird. He was the comic relief. It was almost like watching a vaudeville act instead of the men who were going to take my dead mom’s body out of my house forever.

     I stared, numb and feeling as if I was watching a movie instead of standing there in my own life. Suki paid attention as the undertakers delivered their monologues and then went about their duties. I stood there for a long time and Suki just let me, staying quiet, occasionally walking by and patting my arm or rubbing my shoulder between phone calls and cleaning and such.  I finally sat down when the undertakers rolled my mom out on a stretcher in a big black plastic bag with a zipper down the front. They handed Suki some pamphlets as they left. I went to the door, peeked out the peephole and ran my hand against the smooth oak. I watched them load up the plastic bag that held my mom’s body. I watched the Georges climb into their death mobile and drive away, then went to my mom’s room. The air was suffocating and musty. The scent of decay lingered.

Queen of Dirt Part Deux

I check Amazon daily to see if I have new reviews, to check Never Eighteen's ranking, and see if I'm still on top book lists. I know I'm selling books if I'm on lists. Usually I'm on the following lists.

Books > 4-for-3 Books > Children's Books > Issues > Illness

Books > 4-for-3 Books > Children's Books > Issues > Death

Once I was on the romance list. 


Today I made a new list.


 Books > 4-for-3 Books > Teens > Health, Mind & Body > Sexuality

Um, that's different. I suppose the book has bits of sexuality within its pages. Very little bits. But, hey, this is a new realm. Will it help me sell more books? I have no frickin' idea. In truth, I have no idea what these lists really mean. What's a 4 for 3 book? Do you buy three and get the 4th free? I don't know. 

I am obviously still the Queen of Dirt. Maybe someone will send me a sash and a tiara this time. Oh, and if you want to find out just how much dirt and sex is in the book you can go buy it by clicking the title of the book at the top of the page, or you can enter my contest here.

Wending Wednesday: The Journey to Publication Part 2

When we left off, my mother-in-law had just passed away.  I was grieving with nothing but time on my hands.  I decided to write again, something I hadn't done since college.

Thing One and Thing Two were getting close to reading age, so I wanted to write something for them.  Something they could relate to and would love.  I started writing Dena Powers: Superhero?  I created characters named after my girls, who had their personalities and physical traits.  They were super excited.

It kind of started out as a hobby; I'd sit down and write between getting the kids to and from school, cleaning, laundry, grocery shopping.  When everyone was at home, I'd put it aside.  But soon I was at 50 pages and I said to myself wow, this is turning into a real book.

So, I kept writing.  That 50 pages turned into 100, then 150, and about 50,000 words later, it was a novel, and I thought a pretty good one.

One day I left it at my dad's house accidentally.  He took a look and said, "This is pretty good stuff.  We should try to get you published."

So I edited.

A couple weeks later my dad emailed me: Have you seen this? 

It was an article about a new contest that was being put on by Amazon.com and Penguin.  It was called the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award contest.  ABNA for short.

We all, (me, my dad, my husband) decided that I should enter my little superhero novel, so I did.

Stay tuned next week for part three.

To read part one, click here.

Below is a video I made awhile back about why I started the journey.

Wending Wednesday

Okay, these "W" words are killing me.  I'm going to keep changing them until I get some comments on my Wednesday posts.  The word "wend" means to travel or journey.  So I thought I would talk about  my writing journey.

I've always like to write, from the time I could, really.  Poems for my mom when I was little, to broody angsty songs and poetry in my teen years, to articles for the school paper and yearbook in my college days.

My novel writing began with death, which may or may not have an impact on why I write about death so often.  Many of you have probably already heard this story, but I'll repeat it for my new followers.  My mother-in-law was diagnosed with late stage cancer late 2001.  Rather than have her spend her last days in a nursing home, I quit my job and my husband and I took her in and cared for her with the help of hospice and family.

Her doctor said she had six months to a year to live.  She has also suffered a stroke a few years before, so she couldn't speak, and had to be fed through a tube in her stomach.  I sang to her, fed her, sat with her.  It was a rewarding experience.  Unfortunately, she only lasted three weeks.

Before quitting my job, my husband and I decided I would not go back to work after her death.  So I had time, and I was grieving, and I needed something to do, so I started my first novel.  It was titled Dena Powers: Superhero?

I'll continue the story next Wednesday.

Thanks for reading.

Megan

The Caregivers of the World: Hospice

Hospice workers are awesome.  When my mother-in-law lived with us I saw first hand.  They bring in all the equipment you need.  The nurse's are great.  Very caring, informative.  They'll give the patient their meds and teach you how to do it as well.  They schedule days to come in and bathe them.  And my MIL not only had cancer, but she'd also had a stroke a few years earlier and didn't have the use of her tongue.  So they  taught me how to feed her through her feeding tube.

They aren't only there for their patient, but also for you.  They answer your questions, explain the stages of the illness, what's happening, what we could do to make it better, to understand it.  In a way they help us to accept what is imminent and support us after.  They're available 24/7.

My mother-in-law passed so quickly we didn't really have the opportunity to take advantage of all hospice had to offer.  They have many people willing to volunteer their time and talents to make people's last days as comfortable and fulfilling as possible, artists, massage therapists, etc.  Plus there are people who will just come sit with them, talk to them, or read to them.

They inspired me to make my MIL's stay as fun and comfortable as possible also.  So on top of caring for her, I'd pull my karaoke machine in and sing to her, watch movies with her, just sit and talk to her.

We used Franciscan Hospice whose slogan is, We bring light to the end of life, and you know what?  They really do.  If you're looking for a charity to donate too this year, or a way to volunteer your time, consider them. 

Ciao,

Megan

Top 4 Worst Experiences of My Life: # 4 Caring

This is the first week of my blogging Top 4. I'll be doing this weekly from here on out, where I give a top four Monday through Thursday, and Friday's just kind of a free for all. I decided to start out by giving the top for worst experiences in my life. Some of these will be very personal, please feel free to comment or question.

Many of you have heard how I quit my daycare to care for my mother in law after she was diagnosed with cancer. This was one of the scariest things I have ever done. I sometimes questioned my skills as a daycare provider, as well as a mother, was I really going to be able to help care for my mother in law? Now, don't get me wrong, I wasn't alone in this venture, hospice came in and helped, along with my husband Rusty, and his two sisters, but I was the only one not working, so the majority of care fell on me.

I also have to explain something else. On top of the cancer, my mother in law had three strokes. The last one took away the ability to speak, and the ability to eat solid foods. She could only communicate her needs to me through paper and pen. So I had to give her medications, feed her through a stomach tube, make sure she was comfortable, and entertain her.

We ordered cable so she could watch movies. I sang to her, talked to her. She had a lot of visitors too, which helped take some of the burden off of me, which was nice, because most the time I felt like I was flailing.

We thought she would be living with us for six months to a year, but it only ended up being close to three weeks. Of course, her death was the hardest part of the whole experience.

I'm glad we decided to take her in. I would not have wanted to see her die in a nursing home. I think anyone would want to be in a comfortable, familiar place surrounded by family and friends.

Taking my mother-in-law in, caring for her, coming up with ideas to entertain her, and then watching her die was definitely one of the worst, though most rewarding experiences I have ever had. If challenged to do it again, I would do it in a heartbeat.

A Cyst Like Me

Did you know that the skin on your back is the thickest skin on your body? Neither did I until I was lying on my doctors table yesterday, anesthetized with Novocaine as she cut through mine. You see, I've had this lump on my back since high school. No big deal, right? Just a tiny little lump, no bigger than a huge pimple (which is what I thought it was for a few years, a perpetual pimple) in the middle of my back. I've asked around about it, my dad, who through his profession (not a doctor) if very knowledgeable when it comes to medical stuff. Also, my doctor. "It's just a cyst, no biggee. But if it ever changes, grows, or becomes painful, you'd better have it looked at." And, the fact that it was right on my spine was a little troublesome to boot.

So, I've lived with thing for approximately 28 years. Yes, 28. And though I didn't like it, and thought it was ugly, it never bothered me. Until Sunday.

Sunday I woke up with a horrible pain in my back. I reached back, felt it, and this lump, literally seemed to have grown at least three sizes overnight. Now, I'm sure it didn't happen overnight, but that's the way it seemed. I asked my husband, Rusty, if it looked weird. He said it had a funny white patch on it that he had never seen before.

I thought it was strange, and it hurt, but I went through my day, excercising, writing, cleaning, the normal stuff. I went to bed.

I woke up and the thing was aching. I had Rusty look at it again, and he said that now there was something on it that looks like a scab or mole. Needless to say, I was at that point, and excuse my language, scared shitless.

I made an appointment to get this thing checked out, and had to wait two more days. So for two days I was stewing, fretting, freaking out, really. Trying with all my might not to think about the "C" word.

That brings me to the beginning of my post, with me, lying on the table, back split open, my doctor tugging, pulling, ripping, cutting at this thing trying to dig it out. All of it. So it doesn't come back. Meanwhile, I pray she doesn't slip with the scalpel and paralyze me, avoid the question I should be asking because I'm not sure I want to hear the answer.

Finally she read my mind, "Oh, and by the way, this is benign." By the way. An afterthought for her, an obsession for me. Sigh. I could finally relax. Or maybe not? I mean, I just turned forty, what more is in store for me in this middle life and the years to come? What am I doing? Am I happy? Am I making others happy? Can I reach my goals? Am I making a difference? Or am I going to be like that cyst, unnoticed until it's almost too late, then taken out before I have the opportunity to impact the world around me?

Only time will tell, I guess.