I can tell you without a doubt that God has a sense of humor.  Actually, God’s plan may seem quite ironic, if I’m speaking the truth.


You see, I have always lived my life following *most* rules.  By this I mean, I never smoked, never did drugs, never even tried them.  I don’t drink alcohol. I’ve never been drunk.  I prefer to have complete control of my body/life so giving in to substances that alter my mental state are definitely not something I want to have any part of. (control freak anyone??)


I watched friends drink, do drugs, “go wild” if you will.  I was always the designated driver. 

I was the responsible one.


I’ve always been driven, had goals, dreams, and I wasn’t afraid of going after them.  I knew I wanted to live in California. I wanted to be an extremely successful director.  So I went straight from high school to college (as in within a week or so after graduation) and finished in 3.5 years.  Literally, days after I graduated, my car and u-haul were packed to the brim with all my belongings, and I was driving across the country with my tabby cat, Simba, to my new home in Los Angeles, California.  I didn’t have a job, I barely knew anyone, but none of that mattered. I was going to make my dreams come true.


Fast forward to today. 

God’s plan for my life is far from where I pictured myself to be at this point. After some career detours, I never gave up on my dream, and last year my goal was to film something I was proud to put my name on.  To jump back into my dream, and make it come true.  Irony showed it’s face again, and I was broadsided by something I never thought I’d even have to encounter in my life.  


My dream train was derailed, FAST.  One thing I was scared of my whole life was blood. The sight of it could knock me out cold.  And yet, now it’s the one thing I’m cheering for minute by minute.  I sit here on my bed, still in my pjs and it’s 2:33pm. I currently have sores all over my body (though nothing like they were nearly 6 months ago). I can’t make a fist nor hold anything with my right hand.  I have joint pain as though I’m 80 years old.  MDS and Sweet’s Syndrome, doctors call it. 

This isn’t f*cking sweet at all.

I don’t think people outside of my immediate family truly know what I’m going through on a day to day basis. I will tell you this: I’ve been blessed by the most amazing husband and daughter I could imagine to go through this with me.  The kindness in both their hearts and the support is immeasurable.  “You look great!” I hear from others.  Which is exactly what I love to hear, because the positivity is what will prevail.  What hurts me deep down though, is the daily struggles that hinder my ability to be the mom that my daughter deserves; the wife that my husband married.  The fact that they have to see me like this, well it breaks my heart in two.    I’ve also come to the painful realization that growing older also comes with growing apart from people I once knew as my best friends.  Everyone has their own lives, families and struggles. I get that. But people I’ve never even met in person, check in on me online, while people I know in real life don’t even reach out once.  I don’t mean to have a pity party, but it does hurt.


I am fighting for my life every single day, fighting to give my body what it needs to create blood cells that will keep me kicking. Blood is kinda important, ya know? And if you choose a route like I did, to heal naturally, it’s a VERY lonely path with not much guidance.  Imagine walking through the jungle. You come to a fork in the road, and one path is clouded by the heaviest fog, you can barely see 3 feet in front of you, while the other path is clear as day, but the path drops off a cliff about 50 yards ahead.  I chose the foggy path, because I don’t want to fall off the f*cking cliff! Duh!   You see, I was diagnosed with a rare bone marrow failure disorder, that is seen in people who have smoked (oh the irony is strong), been on chemotherapy (I don’t even use chemicals to clean my house, let along inject it in my veins), or been through radiation. The only treatment *known* (I say this loosely as the medical establishment is highly biased by the way of what makes them the most money) is chemotherapy and/or a bone marrow/stem cell transplant.  Neither offer much as far as life expectancy.  So, logically, it’s not a path I’m willing to go down.


To come to this point in my life after I spent the last 33 years avoiding cigarettes like the plague, declining to toxify my body with alcohol or any substance, and certainly not partake in any questionable toxic things, is proof alone that no matter what, God is running this whole show.

So here’s the test in life. 

You may avoid all the “bad” things, but things really, truly are up to God.  It would be magical to be so cut and dry as to say, “if you don’t do any bad things, you’ll live a super long, healthy life.”  Nor is it guaranteed that if you do jump in and do drugs, smoke, etc. that you’re going to end up sick (though your percentages do drastically go up).  


I watch people eat toxic sh*t they’re entire life, without a care or thought about what they truly are putting in their body.  I see people poison themselves daily with carcinogenic crap, and they couldn’t care less. People have somewhat benign ailments that they complain about, yet they can easily recover if they just took care of their body without adding more to the problem.  The amount of people I see eating fast food, on daily prescription meds, or smoking their precious breath away is so alarming and infuriating.  It’s no wonder the health of our population is declining, and at an crazy fast rate.


It’s really not up to us at all.  God has your life in his hands, and He chooses what journey we’re supposed to be on.


But then there’s people like me.  The people who have a purpose and a voice in this world, whether we see it yet or not.  I’m not completely sure what this journey is meant to show me or the world, but I do know God has a plan with all this.  The best thing I can do right now is to share this experience with everyone, so that if I can touch even one life for the better, then it’s worth it.


I truly believe I’m on the path toward better health, and I will get to see the day that my daughter graduates, goes to college, gets married, has children of her own.  


But let me leave you all with this little nugget.  If you know someone who has any health issue, small or large, reach out and just say hi and that you’re thinking of them.  They may seem okay, or like they’re making it through, but I guarantee their struggle is 100 times worse than they’re revealing to you or anyone publicly.  We don’t want to show how broken (or scared) we feel at the moment, but a simple recognition, a call, a hug, can really heal ones spirit deeply, which in turn helps our bodies heal.


True human interaction can heal.