Relationship

Crush on J

I have this secret crush.. A ridiculous secret crush. There’s a part of me that wants something to happen and another that’s quite the opposite. Or perhaps, its not even a crush anymore. Simply, i can’t stop thinking about J.

I don’t know, i guess it’s still better just to leave it as a secret. I’ll be gone soon from where J is working. We have different paths to tackle ahead. Different line of careers. But i do hope one day, if faith would have it.. We’ll see each other again.

Crap, i think im infatuated with J. I wanna get over this ridiculous crush.

Advertisements
Standard
Uncategorized

Sleep tight, don’t let the bedbugs bite

leftbraintendencies's Blog

Did you ever say this to someone? My parents said this to me before bed often. This was way before I had knowledge of actual bedbugs being real.

This is not about bedbugs. I have insomnia. I fall asleep but I don’t stay asleep. This has been going on for four years.

Yesterday, I went to the doctor for this problem. It is not the first time. I have anxiety and I have a lot of tools that help me manage anxiety while in a conscious state. I work out daily and have changed my diet in attempt to help with this.

I have used several medications to help with this issue. The doctor put me on a new medication yesterday.
I didn’t wake up last night for the first time in months.

It is a great feeling to wake up and not feel hung over from tiredness. It usually…

View original post 673 more words

Standard
Uncategorized

Pretty Pictures: My Makeup Free Selfie

PhDaisy

IMG_0096 Dad’s selfie taken a month before his diagnosis

This is my makeup free selfie. No, I don’t need to wax my upper-lip – I did that last week, actually. The person in the selfie is my dad, Julian Raphael. He died on December 4th, 2013 of pancreatic cancer.

I was nominated to share a #nomakeupselfie on facebook in order to raise awareness about cancer. Initially I thought, “I have no idea what this has to do with cancer, but why not?” I’m not ashamed of my makeup-free face. I used to be. From the ages of about 15 to 25 I was afraid to leave the house without it. Now, however, I have come to really love my face without makeup – zits and all – and I would be pretty proud to show off how pretty my makeup free face is. With the right lighting, hairstyle and camera angle…

View original post 2,200 more words

Standard

20140327-053914.jpg

Humor

Lol

Image

A Blog Called Quest

Sadly, this wristband did not get me into the club Sadly, this wristband did not get me into the club

Here’s what happens when they tell you that you have cancer. You don’t hear the rest of the sentence. Or the one after that. Or the one after that. Or anything else for the next hour really. The moment the word escapes the doctor’s mouth, everything they say starts sounding like the teacher in Charlie Brown. “You have cancer womp womp waaah waah …”

So before we get too deep into this, I guess I’ll start by telling you: I have cancer.

Womp. Womp. Waaah. Waah.

It’s OK. Take a second if you need it. Trust me, I needed more than one.

Technically, I have Waldenstrom macroglobulinemia, a rare form of non-Hodgkins lymphoma. It’s named after Swedish oncologist Jan G. Waldenström, who “discovered” it in 1944. Lucky guy. His name is forever associated with something that freaks people the (deleted) out. Or so…

View original post 1,706 more words

Uncategorized

Patient No. 840379159

Image
Uncategorized

The essay my mother wrote

Jeremy Podolski

Five years after her death, a 20-year old letter tells powerful story of a mother’s love

I was rummaging this week in my Windows documents folder – my generation’s version of a cobwebbed attic – looking for something I no longer recall, when I saw a folder simply labeled “Mom.”the essay my mother wrote mother and sonIt’s been more than five years since my mom died of ovarian cancer at much too young an age. Five years: a blink and an eternity all at once. I try desperately to remember the sound and cadence of her voice. I trip over triggered memories of time-bleached events, hoping to add new detail to my imperfect archive of childhood. Occasionally, I pick up the phone to call her, only realizing my folly when I struggle to remember her number.

Unexpectedly finding something that is about her, belonged to her or pictures her is like discovering treasure buried beneath a…

View original post 2,356 more words

Standard