Wednesday, August 22, 2018
Wednesday, March 23, 2016
Life of a 38 Year Old Goof
I told myself I wouldn't mention the fact that it's been since August that I've written on this mess and the story I told in the last blog was a traumatic time about losing my gallbladder, and apparently had a second part to the story, but I'm not sure where I was going with it. Anyway, an update of my last few months, because things have definitely changed a little bit since August.
First and foremost, the feeling that overwhelms me now is happiness. For the first time in some time I really am happy. I had three different people not at the same time, over different mediums say how happy I looked recently, and so I did a bit of soul searching and realized that I really am at a good place in my life right now. And over the last few months that was something I wasn't so sure was possible. I mean, I knew it was certainly possible, but I was allowing myself until January 1st to kind of be in a funk. Not a real funk like I was sad all the time, that's the furthest thing from my mind, but a funk like not searching for my next inevitable failed relationship or just getting out and about. I was allowing myself some down-time almost. Going to hit life hard once the ball dropped screaming January 1st, 2016.
Sometimes things happen and change lifes plan for you. I've had a great friend come into my life January 17, 2015. Right after the end of my tumultuous relationship (how about that for a word?!?!) the one person who I reached out to initially after hearing that she worked in my hometown in NJ was a teacher. I thought that was cool, we became FaceBook official friends earlier that day, and I thought I would reach out to find out at which school she taught. Of course, out of the two elementary schools in the small town, she worked at the other one. The one I didn't attend, but it was still cool to know some of the same people and talking about my beloved hometown. After small talk, she said to me that she had heard through some mutual friends of my situation with my previous relationship that had just recently ended and that she, herself had been recently (within the last few years) divorced and that if I ever needed a sounding board, that she would be an ear and would listen and add any advice and support having gone through it on the other side. From that day on, a friendship grew.
I know, Mr. Blog Thing, you want me to get to the point. You must forget that I am rather long-winded on this thing and will drag this story out for a long while for dramatic effect. The friendship continued to grow. She actually had a relationship that soured right around that same time that we started talking so we were really helping each other by talking things out, getting opposite sex opinions, etc. It was a fun friendship, one that I hoped would last awhile.
Then comes April, 2015 while I was in Savannah, and was invited to a paradisaical like island in-between Hilton Head and Savannah for what was billed as a "taste of New Jersey" for Easter. Completely out of character, I do tend to be shy and quiet in uncomfortable situations, I decided to go get this taste. It was probably that day that changed how I thought of this person, but I fought it being that I was wanting to stay in my funk. A simple, yet tremendous Easter meal with a great family, followed by a boat trip back to the mainland to go to the Masters practice round and the trip was complete. Only the next few days she wanted to go to Savannah and have dinner and drinks on River St. So we did that. I spilled a beer into our shared order of fried pickles and it has been an ongoing joke ever since.
Fast forward to November when I was finally able to get back together with her for dinner and drinks back in NJ and we are where we are today. Which is me being happy. We both fought feelings, and distance and now a great friendship is continuing on the road. And it's happy. Once the distance thing figures itself out, we may be more happy, but until then, just enjoy the ride.
I say that to say that I was able to find happy in the least expected place. This is the first time in a long while, if ever, that friendship first led to something else. It's a really cool feeling to have something in life happen and want to pick up the phone or send a text to her to tell her first and have her be genuinely interested in it.
So this long-winded blog post was because I hadn't written in awhile. The last few posts have had some comedic elements in them, but for the most part were sort of melancholy. Finally I come back with a story of pure, real joy. And it's good. Who knows what the future holds, but I know you cannot put a clock on when you're ready to find happy, or even be happy. I've got a great group of friends, a great job, a great home and a great life.
I'm not going to sit here and say that I'll be back in a few days to write more, because we both know that I probably won't, as much as I'd like to. So for now, until the next time...
First and foremost, the feeling that overwhelms me now is happiness. For the first time in some time I really am happy. I had three different people not at the same time, over different mediums say how happy I looked recently, and so I did a bit of soul searching and realized that I really am at a good place in my life right now. And over the last few months that was something I wasn't so sure was possible. I mean, I knew it was certainly possible, but I was allowing myself until January 1st to kind of be in a funk. Not a real funk like I was sad all the time, that's the furthest thing from my mind, but a funk like not searching for my next inevitable failed relationship or just getting out and about. I was allowing myself some down-time almost. Going to hit life hard once the ball dropped screaming January 1st, 2016.
Sometimes things happen and change lifes plan for you. I've had a great friend come into my life January 17, 2015. Right after the end of my tumultuous relationship (how about that for a word?!?!) the one person who I reached out to initially after hearing that she worked in my hometown in NJ was a teacher. I thought that was cool, we became FaceBook official friends earlier that day, and I thought I would reach out to find out at which school she taught. Of course, out of the two elementary schools in the small town, she worked at the other one. The one I didn't attend, but it was still cool to know some of the same people and talking about my beloved hometown. After small talk, she said to me that she had heard through some mutual friends of my situation with my previous relationship that had just recently ended and that she, herself had been recently (within the last few years) divorced and that if I ever needed a sounding board, that she would be an ear and would listen and add any advice and support having gone through it on the other side. From that day on, a friendship grew.
I know, Mr. Blog Thing, you want me to get to the point. You must forget that I am rather long-winded on this thing and will drag this story out for a long while for dramatic effect. The friendship continued to grow. She actually had a relationship that soured right around that same time that we started talking so we were really helping each other by talking things out, getting opposite sex opinions, etc. It was a fun friendship, one that I hoped would last awhile.
Then comes April, 2015 while I was in Savannah, and was invited to a paradisaical like island in-between Hilton Head and Savannah for what was billed as a "taste of New Jersey" for Easter. Completely out of character, I do tend to be shy and quiet in uncomfortable situations, I decided to go get this taste. It was probably that day that changed how I thought of this person, but I fought it being that I was wanting to stay in my funk. A simple, yet tremendous Easter meal with a great family, followed by a boat trip back to the mainland to go to the Masters practice round and the trip was complete. Only the next few days she wanted to go to Savannah and have dinner and drinks on River St. So we did that. I spilled a beer into our shared order of fried pickles and it has been an ongoing joke ever since.
Fast forward to November when I was finally able to get back together with her for dinner and drinks back in NJ and we are where we are today. Which is me being happy. We both fought feelings, and distance and now a great friendship is continuing on the road. And it's happy. Once the distance thing figures itself out, we may be more happy, but until then, just enjoy the ride.
I say that to say that I was able to find happy in the least expected place. This is the first time in a long while, if ever, that friendship first led to something else. It's a really cool feeling to have something in life happen and want to pick up the phone or send a text to her to tell her first and have her be genuinely interested in it.
So this long-winded blog post was because I hadn't written in awhile. The last few posts have had some comedic elements in them, but for the most part were sort of melancholy. Finally I come back with a story of pure, real joy. And it's good. Who knows what the future holds, but I know you cannot put a clock on when you're ready to find happy, or even be happy. I've got a great group of friends, a great job, a great home and a great life.
I'm not going to sit here and say that I'll be back in a few days to write more, because we both know that I probably won't, as much as I'd like to. So for now, until the next time...
Tuesday, August 04, 2015
I Lost (my gallbladder) On Jeopardy Pt. 1
My overused phrase as I write my first blog in awhile is "dusting it off" and then I don't return for quite awhile after that. This time I sort of have an excuse. And here's the reason for the post.
About a month ago I finally closed on my newly constructed townhome in Greenville, SC, therefore leaving me to move all of my stuff from Tampa...er...Wesley Chapel, FL to the great state of South Carolina. Finally getting out of hotel living and "free" breakfast everyday. I took off a Thursday and Friday and Momma and Pappy Creegs were going to meet me down there along with a few of my neighbors and a big Pod. The move out of the first home that I was a part of purchasing was rather sad. I had many a emotional breakdown and even some tears were shed. Probably because I hadn't dusted in there in awhile, but I digress. It was a rather tough weekend for me personally, emotionally and physically, and that doesn't even take into account lifting the couches, tables, etc.
I made a big deal to my parents and awesome neighbors that Thursday night was my last night in my home and that I didn't want to pack my mattress and box spring until Friday so I could have one last night in my home. So I did, because I'm selfish and like to get my way, which is probably why, at 38, I'm still very, VERY single. Anywho. So Thursday night after a nice steak dinner and big ice cream cone from Dairy Queen, shared with my parental units I embarked on my one last night at a home I love.
After saying my goodbyes for the night with the folks, I went to the empty house and it was eerie. Just real quiet and empty. Emotion got the best of me that night but I was able to fall asleep. At about 2:30am I was awoken by a major pain in my sternum. It felt like I had to poop, and vomit but couldn't do either. And that's frustrating. And I just couldn't get comfortable. This agonizing pain lingered and I couldn't get comfortable in my bed. Felt like someone or something was trying to tell me something. All of the nonsense that I've been through the last few months all coming back on me. Needless to say I was able to finally get back to sleep around 5am, and slept until about 9. This had me worried because there is a lot of family history of gallbladder stones and I had had three similar attacks, most recently in April during my month long training in Savannah. That wasn't nearly as bad, but it still put me down for about a day. So this time I woke up and still had a little uncomfortableness (no, that's not a word, but this is my thing!) throughout the day but figured, like my other experiences, that it would go away. It sort of subsided throughout the day and I went about doing the rest of the packing and the Pod was closed and locked and ready for the move.
Friday night I went out with a few friends, had a couple of beers and ate with a sense of healthiness knowing that my attack the night before was probably diet related. Friday night I slept at my neighbors house and slept great, no issues whatsoever. Oh, and I had the pup too, who was very worried about Daddy the night before. He was keeping an eye on me throughout Friday too, knowing that we had a long drive just a few days away.
Saturday I woke up with some lingering effects of my attack, and a slight pain entered my sternum again. This time it was throughout the day and that is weird. However, I pushed through, relaxed for the most part that day and was able to see some friends, although I missed most of them on this trip, and really started feeling it in the evening. I went back to the neighbors house not feeling so hot and went to bed. Well, attempted to go to bed. I went to the room and tried to get comfortable. Wasn't happening. I laid down at 11, woke up every 30 minutes to pee. Not in the bed, that would have been a record for me. But that was strange, even for me, without having drank 103 beers as per the norm on a Saturday. I didn't sleep a minute Saturday night and the pain was excruciating. Went from my sternum to my ribs and into my back. Gallbladder attack #2 for the weekend that was supposed to be a move and some good times.
I got up out of the bed that I rolled around in all night about 8 and went back to my home just to pack up some things into the Jeep to head back to South Carolina to begin my life...again. I was so tired, but managed to get in the car and head home. It was the shortest 8 1/2 hour trip in my life because I really don't remember it. I could not get comfortable in my seat. The dog was worried for me, and even tried to run away from me during our one stop for him to pee and get gas. He said that he couldn't wait to get to South Carolina to pee on my neighbors lawns. At least in the state that I was in, I think that's what he said. Anyway, I made it back, went upstairs to my bed and was able to sleep for about 3 hours.
Woke up at 8pm and the pain hadn't subsided one bit. In fact it was so bad, that about 10pm I made myself throw-up even though I probably shouldn't have. I'm not sure I have any readers, but even if I did, you probably know that I throw up hard! And the first thing to go is the blood vessels in my eyes. Well, not having eaten anything in the previous 2 days, I vomited my ass off. Just straight bile and dry heaves. Bam! Feel great. Pain was gone...for about three minutes. Then not only was in agony in the sternum, but agony below the ribs. Just an awful feeling.
Ring, Ring! I call the only person I know would feel sorry for me and hopefully give me advice on what to do, my mom! It's about midnight at this point, so I'm waking both parents, who were literally just in Florida the day before and probably had enough time to unpack their clothes before I was calling with yet another issue. They tell me to go to the ER, which I didn't want to do. I have a phobia of ER's. I figure if you don't go to the doctor, then nothing is wrong with you. So, in typical Creegy fashion I toughed it out. Was finally able to fall asleep at 5am. I sent a message to my employees and told them I would not be in Monday but I'd see them Tuesday. I woke up at 2pm still in a lot of pain, but at least I slept. Around 3pm, my mom and dad call and I tell them I've not gotten better and now I have blood vessels burst in and around my eyes, I'm sort of yellow and I'm peeing Clemson orange. They finally convince me to go to an urgent care, which happens to be less than a mile from my house. I oblige. I threw some clothes together, didn't even put a belt on, but did shower, and that's important.
I get to the urgent care, explain to the staff what's wrong with me and they listen well. Great staff at Doctor's Express on Woodruff Rd. Really appreciative of their guidance on the whole situation. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself somewhat. So they take blood to see what's going on. Now I haven't eaten a thing, have only had three Red Bulls on the ride back from Florida to South Carolina and that was simply to just keep me up. They also took a urine sample and that's where initially they said I had proteins in my urine, whatever that means, but it was why it was so orange. The doctor came in and asked what was going on, family history, what I'd eaten recently, etc. He left to look at the blood test results. When he comes back into the room his eyes are as big as softballs. He looks at me and throws some numbers around about kidney and liver and white blood cells. I don't know, wasn't really in the mood to listen. I figured he'd give me a prescription and a shot in the ass and send me on my way. NOPE! "You have two options. Either drive yourself to the ER immediately or we will call the EMS because I'm really worried and you are not medically stable. We need to get fluids into you, you have a 102.4 fever and that's not right for a strapping, sexy 38 year old." Ok, maybe I made up the last part, but you get it. So I said that I would get myself to the hospital, I needed my phone charger and a belt and some gum, and let the dog out, etc. Once again, I was wrong. The doctor didn't trust me to get myself to the hospital so he had already called EMS, and as he was telling me this I heard sirens. That's a sinking feeling.
At the Emergency room, I figured I'd get a shot in the ass and a prescription and be on my way. I'm really not good at this whole "Guess What Will Happen To Me" game. The ER doctor, after my ultrasound (no I'm not pregnant) told me that she had good news and bad news. I'm thinking the good news is I was getting to go home. That, again, was wrong. The good news as that it was my gallbladder and the bad news was that they were admitting me to the hospital and the surgeon would see me "IN THE MORNING!!!" WHAT?!?! I'm spending the night in a hospital?!?! Oh no! Guess I won't be seeing my employees on Tuesday. The ER doctor also told me that the surgeon would go over my options. Once again, I only had one option.
6:30 am, after being loaded up with IV fluids and hospital jello the night before, but very comfortable and taken care of by the great staff at St. Francis Women's (that's actually what it used to be called because of the amount of babies born there, but it's actually just St. Francis Eastside now). I always try to be a good patient wherever I am or whatever may be happening to me. This time I had a lot of pain meds, so I was comfortable, and could be the positive patient I wanted to be. The surgeon comes in EARLY and introduces himself to me and tells me that on Tuesday (that day) I would be going under for a procedure to see if any of the gall stones had gone into my pancreas and really just do an all around clean up and on Wednesday he was going to take my gallbladder out. He said it was absolutely top ten worst looking gallbladders he's ever seen. So I had that going for me. If I was going, why not go big! But this was really scary. I'd only had Novocaine in my life. Never general anesthesia. Where were my options? I had none.
Oh, and I forgot to mention that I called mom at about 7:30 the night they admitted me and told them that I was going into the hospital. She grabbed dad and got in the car and were on their way 12 hours to South Carolina. That was really comforting and what makes me really lucky to have such awesome, caring, loving parents. They're really the best! 48 hours earlier they were lifting, packing, cleaning, etc. for me. Now they were driving to make sure I was taken care of and ok. It was great to have them there, it really was.
I'll spare the details of the surgery, but they both worked out. I have pictures of my gallbladder and let's just say that a healthy gallbladder is supposed to be the color of a robin's egg. Mine was a nice mix of black, brown and gangrene. I had 16 staples in my stomach and some uncomfortableness (there's that word again) but otherwise no more agonizing pain.
Very thankful to all the doctors (really just had 2 that mattered), all the nurses, and the staff of the hospital. I was released on that Thursday, took another day to recover a little and got back to work the following Monday. Probably shouldn't have, but I'm getting better every day and feel good. Thanks for all the well-wishes that came through.
I'm calling this post Part 1 because there's a second part to the story, or really just what happened a week later back in Tampa, and I just feel like this post was long, so I'm going to make myself come back to tell the other part in the next day or two.
About a month ago I finally closed on my newly constructed townhome in Greenville, SC, therefore leaving me to move all of my stuff from Tampa...er...Wesley Chapel, FL to the great state of South Carolina. Finally getting out of hotel living and "free" breakfast everyday. I took off a Thursday and Friday and Momma and Pappy Creegs were going to meet me down there along with a few of my neighbors and a big Pod. The move out of the first home that I was a part of purchasing was rather sad. I had many a emotional breakdown and even some tears were shed. Probably because I hadn't dusted in there in awhile, but I digress. It was a rather tough weekend for me personally, emotionally and physically, and that doesn't even take into account lifting the couches, tables, etc.
I made a big deal to my parents and awesome neighbors that Thursday night was my last night in my home and that I didn't want to pack my mattress and box spring until Friday so I could have one last night in my home. So I did, because I'm selfish and like to get my way, which is probably why, at 38, I'm still very, VERY single. Anywho. So Thursday night after a nice steak dinner and big ice cream cone from Dairy Queen, shared with my parental units I embarked on my one last night at a home I love.
After saying my goodbyes for the night with the folks, I went to the empty house and it was eerie. Just real quiet and empty. Emotion got the best of me that night but I was able to fall asleep. At about 2:30am I was awoken by a major pain in my sternum. It felt like I had to poop, and vomit but couldn't do either. And that's frustrating. And I just couldn't get comfortable. This agonizing pain lingered and I couldn't get comfortable in my bed. Felt like someone or something was trying to tell me something. All of the nonsense that I've been through the last few months all coming back on me. Needless to say I was able to finally get back to sleep around 5am, and slept until about 9. This had me worried because there is a lot of family history of gallbladder stones and I had had three similar attacks, most recently in April during my month long training in Savannah. That wasn't nearly as bad, but it still put me down for about a day. So this time I woke up and still had a little uncomfortableness (no, that's not a word, but this is my thing!) throughout the day but figured, like my other experiences, that it would go away. It sort of subsided throughout the day and I went about doing the rest of the packing and the Pod was closed and locked and ready for the move.
Friday night I went out with a few friends, had a couple of beers and ate with a sense of healthiness knowing that my attack the night before was probably diet related. Friday night I slept at my neighbors house and slept great, no issues whatsoever. Oh, and I had the pup too, who was very worried about Daddy the night before. He was keeping an eye on me throughout Friday too, knowing that we had a long drive just a few days away.
Saturday I woke up with some lingering effects of my attack, and a slight pain entered my sternum again. This time it was throughout the day and that is weird. However, I pushed through, relaxed for the most part that day and was able to see some friends, although I missed most of them on this trip, and really started feeling it in the evening. I went back to the neighbors house not feeling so hot and went to bed. Well, attempted to go to bed. I went to the room and tried to get comfortable. Wasn't happening. I laid down at 11, woke up every 30 minutes to pee. Not in the bed, that would have been a record for me. But that was strange, even for me, without having drank 103 beers as per the norm on a Saturday. I didn't sleep a minute Saturday night and the pain was excruciating. Went from my sternum to my ribs and into my back. Gallbladder attack #2 for the weekend that was supposed to be a move and some good times.
I got up out of the bed that I rolled around in all night about 8 and went back to my home just to pack up some things into the Jeep to head back to South Carolina to begin my life...again. I was so tired, but managed to get in the car and head home. It was the shortest 8 1/2 hour trip in my life because I really don't remember it. I could not get comfortable in my seat. The dog was worried for me, and even tried to run away from me during our one stop for him to pee and get gas. He said that he couldn't wait to get to South Carolina to pee on my neighbors lawns. At least in the state that I was in, I think that's what he said. Anyway, I made it back, went upstairs to my bed and was able to sleep for about 3 hours.
Woke up at 8pm and the pain hadn't subsided one bit. In fact it was so bad, that about 10pm I made myself throw-up even though I probably shouldn't have. I'm not sure I have any readers, but even if I did, you probably know that I throw up hard! And the first thing to go is the blood vessels in my eyes. Well, not having eaten anything in the previous 2 days, I vomited my ass off. Just straight bile and dry heaves. Bam! Feel great. Pain was gone...for about three minutes. Then not only was in agony in the sternum, but agony below the ribs. Just an awful feeling.
Ring, Ring! I call the only person I know would feel sorry for me and hopefully give me advice on what to do, my mom! It's about midnight at this point, so I'm waking both parents, who were literally just in Florida the day before and probably had enough time to unpack their clothes before I was calling with yet another issue. They tell me to go to the ER, which I didn't want to do. I have a phobia of ER's. I figure if you don't go to the doctor, then nothing is wrong with you. So, in typical Creegy fashion I toughed it out. Was finally able to fall asleep at 5am. I sent a message to my employees and told them I would not be in Monday but I'd see them Tuesday. I woke up at 2pm still in a lot of pain, but at least I slept. Around 3pm, my mom and dad call and I tell them I've not gotten better and now I have blood vessels burst in and around my eyes, I'm sort of yellow and I'm peeing Clemson orange. They finally convince me to go to an urgent care, which happens to be less than a mile from my house. I oblige. I threw some clothes together, didn't even put a belt on, but did shower, and that's important.
I get to the urgent care, explain to the staff what's wrong with me and they listen well. Great staff at Doctor's Express on Woodruff Rd. Really appreciative of their guidance on the whole situation. Anyway, I'm getting ahead of myself somewhat. So they take blood to see what's going on. Now I haven't eaten a thing, have only had three Red Bulls on the ride back from Florida to South Carolina and that was simply to just keep me up. They also took a urine sample and that's where initially they said I had proteins in my urine, whatever that means, but it was why it was so orange. The doctor came in and asked what was going on, family history, what I'd eaten recently, etc. He left to look at the blood test results. When he comes back into the room his eyes are as big as softballs. He looks at me and throws some numbers around about kidney and liver and white blood cells. I don't know, wasn't really in the mood to listen. I figured he'd give me a prescription and a shot in the ass and send me on my way. NOPE! "You have two options. Either drive yourself to the ER immediately or we will call the EMS because I'm really worried and you are not medically stable. We need to get fluids into you, you have a 102.4 fever and that's not right for a strapping, sexy 38 year old." Ok, maybe I made up the last part, but you get it. So I said that I would get myself to the hospital, I needed my phone charger and a belt and some gum, and let the dog out, etc. Once again, I was wrong. The doctor didn't trust me to get myself to the hospital so he had already called EMS, and as he was telling me this I heard sirens. That's a sinking feeling.
At the Emergency room, I figured I'd get a shot in the ass and a prescription and be on my way. I'm really not good at this whole "Guess What Will Happen To Me" game. The ER doctor, after my ultrasound (no I'm not pregnant) told me that she had good news and bad news. I'm thinking the good news is I was getting to go home. That, again, was wrong. The good news as that it was my gallbladder and the bad news was that they were admitting me to the hospital and the surgeon would see me "IN THE MORNING!!!" WHAT?!?! I'm spending the night in a hospital?!?! Oh no! Guess I won't be seeing my employees on Tuesday. The ER doctor also told me that the surgeon would go over my options. Once again, I only had one option.
6:30 am, after being loaded up with IV fluids and hospital jello the night before, but very comfortable and taken care of by the great staff at St. Francis Women's (that's actually what it used to be called because of the amount of babies born there, but it's actually just St. Francis Eastside now). I always try to be a good patient wherever I am or whatever may be happening to me. This time I had a lot of pain meds, so I was comfortable, and could be the positive patient I wanted to be. The surgeon comes in EARLY and introduces himself to me and tells me that on Tuesday (that day) I would be going under for a procedure to see if any of the gall stones had gone into my pancreas and really just do an all around clean up and on Wednesday he was going to take my gallbladder out. He said it was absolutely top ten worst looking gallbladders he's ever seen. So I had that going for me. If I was going, why not go big! But this was really scary. I'd only had Novocaine in my life. Never general anesthesia. Where were my options? I had none.
Oh, and I forgot to mention that I called mom at about 7:30 the night they admitted me and told them that I was going into the hospital. She grabbed dad and got in the car and were on their way 12 hours to South Carolina. That was really comforting and what makes me really lucky to have such awesome, caring, loving parents. They're really the best! 48 hours earlier they were lifting, packing, cleaning, etc. for me. Now they were driving to make sure I was taken care of and ok. It was great to have them there, it really was.
I'll spare the details of the surgery, but they both worked out. I have pictures of my gallbladder and let's just say that a healthy gallbladder is supposed to be the color of a robin's egg. Mine was a nice mix of black, brown and gangrene. I had 16 staples in my stomach and some uncomfortableness (there's that word again) but otherwise no more agonizing pain.
Very thankful to all the doctors (really just had 2 that mattered), all the nurses, and the staff of the hospital. I was released on that Thursday, took another day to recover a little and got back to work the following Monday. Probably shouldn't have, but I'm getting better every day and feel good. Thanks for all the well-wishes that came through.
I'm calling this post Part 1 because there's a second part to the story, or really just what happened a week later back in Tampa, and I just feel like this post was long, so I'm going to make myself come back to tell the other part in the next day or two.
Sunday, March 15, 2015
Dust it off, and dust on the ceiling...
So back in the day, I used this blog to tell my goofy story, really accentuating the craziness that was my life. Then I met a girl that changed my life. She never stopped me from blogging but meeting her led to me stopping because I thought I had it all. My life was now complete. I was in love nearly instantly. I do fall hard but this was different. We just got each other. It was great. I won't go into any detail but the time has come to separate. I got a job offer I couldn't, didn't want to refuse back in my adopted home of south Carolina. A great city of which has grown exponentially since my last visit. I'm excited beyond all belief for a new start, a new fresh start, a new beginning. Yes, Mr. Blog thing I know I just ran on and redundicized the heck out of that last sentence but this is my space. No, not MySpace, but my own space to make my own rules. So I am.
This is completely out of my comfort zone and I'm really uncomfortable but I felt this way when I was cast as a Self help guru my (second)senior year at Clemson and had to break the fourth wall and talk directly to the audience, even going into the audience and sitting on laps. A little backstory, I had trouble memorizing lines like normal people do with repetition, I had to rehearse every night and do a scene over and over again never fully feeling comfortable with my lines usually until we opened. I know, that's repetition, but to me it was different. Then I would get nervous that I would forget lines during the show, so to battle this I would never make eye contact with any audience member ever. Even if I had to speak at them I would find a person's head out there and look right above it, almost over it while never making eye contact. This worked for me for years and years and even became somewhat of a joke to some of my peers. Then the day happened where these scenes were cast and there was my name in a really funny scene playing the doctor that has to not only go into the audience but ad lib with them. Petrified is not even close to the word I felt. But as the overused cliche states, "the show must go on." As a super senior, I couldn't let on to the younger kids that I was scared of this. I'd been on stage for 12 main stage shows and numerous other Student directed scenes in my college years. Allegedly, I was a leader within the department. So on it went. And I loved it. It was a boat load of fun. I had a blast on stage and literally just interacting with the audience. I wish I knew the name of the scene or even who wrote it. I guess it'll always be a mystery to me. So I overcame a fear I thought I had by just diving head first into it. The results were awesome.
I'm not saying that my current situation of going through a separation, even though we weren't married is the same as the role in the show, but I was out of my comfort zone. I'm still calling it that. Get off my back senor blog. It's completely different. It's real life, that was completely, for the most part, scripted, and I've been in other hard relationship ends but this one feels and is very different. I wanted to marry this one. I've overused the phrase, I've seen this movie before, I know I end up ok, and I will. But for now I'm not. Add into that moving to a state two short states away, starting a new job in an industry I know nothing about and building a new home to decorate and live in alone. It's nerve wracking to the nth degree. But I know the ending of this silly little movie. I know it'll be ok.
So I will, hopefully, start and continue back telling my goofy life story on this outlet. Please allow me too because it is helpful to me. Reading a former Clemson peer of mine, she's younger, but amazing with words, dealing with a personal tragedy by writing a fantastically written blog has gotten me to pick this thing back up. Who knows how often I want to release stories. Those that know me know I tell my silly stories about stupid things I do or say and it's not meant to be used against me but rather because I like letting people into the absurdity which is my life.
So welcome back to both my loyal readers. Thanks for having me back Frau Blog. I hope to see you again real soon.
This is completely out of my comfort zone and I'm really uncomfortable but I felt this way when I was cast as a Self help guru my (second)senior year at Clemson and had to break the fourth wall and talk directly to the audience, even going into the audience and sitting on laps. A little backstory, I had trouble memorizing lines like normal people do with repetition, I had to rehearse every night and do a scene over and over again never fully feeling comfortable with my lines usually until we opened. I know, that's repetition, but to me it was different. Then I would get nervous that I would forget lines during the show, so to battle this I would never make eye contact with any audience member ever. Even if I had to speak at them I would find a person's head out there and look right above it, almost over it while never making eye contact. This worked for me for years and years and even became somewhat of a joke to some of my peers. Then the day happened where these scenes were cast and there was my name in a really funny scene playing the doctor that has to not only go into the audience but ad lib with them. Petrified is not even close to the word I felt. But as the overused cliche states, "the show must go on." As a super senior, I couldn't let on to the younger kids that I was scared of this. I'd been on stage for 12 main stage shows and numerous other Student directed scenes in my college years. Allegedly, I was a leader within the department. So on it went. And I loved it. It was a boat load of fun. I had a blast on stage and literally just interacting with the audience. I wish I knew the name of the scene or even who wrote it. I guess it'll always be a mystery to me. So I overcame a fear I thought I had by just diving head first into it. The results were awesome.
I'm not saying that my current situation of going through a separation, even though we weren't married is the same as the role in the show, but I was out of my comfort zone. I'm still calling it that. Get off my back senor blog. It's completely different. It's real life, that was completely, for the most part, scripted, and I've been in other hard relationship ends but this one feels and is very different. I wanted to marry this one. I've overused the phrase, I've seen this movie before, I know I end up ok, and I will. But for now I'm not. Add into that moving to a state two short states away, starting a new job in an industry I know nothing about and building a new home to decorate and live in alone. It's nerve wracking to the nth degree. But I know the ending of this silly little movie. I know it'll be ok.
So I will, hopefully, start and continue back telling my goofy life story on this outlet. Please allow me too because it is helpful to me. Reading a former Clemson peer of mine, she's younger, but amazing with words, dealing with a personal tragedy by writing a fantastically written blog has gotten me to pick this thing back up. Who knows how often I want to release stories. Those that know me know I tell my silly stories about stupid things I do or say and it's not meant to be used against me but rather because I like letting people into the absurdity which is my life.
So welcome back to both my loyal readers. Thanks for having me back Frau Blog. I hope to see you again real soon.
Tuesday, August 28, 2012
Cousin Michael
I haven't written on my blog in quite sometime and I believe that it's because my life has calmed down some. I've found the greatest girl, my job is extremely busy and going really well and we've bought a house, plan on building a lanai (screened in porch for my non Floridian peeps) to watch college football on and keep the mosquitos out, for the most part. As I looked back on previous posts, unfortunately most of the more recent ones are about saying goodbye to a loved one. Today is going to be no different.
My mothers family is wonderful. She has such a great Italian family. Back when I was just a wee tot, the holidays were an event. My grandmother has a sister and three brothers. I wasn't lucky enough to be around to enjoy Uncle Sonny, but i'm extremely fortunate to have known and been loved by my late Uncle Nick, and can't say enough about my Uncle Rocco, that man is beyond words the best man in the world. Which brings me to my Aunt Elia, the matriarch of our family. When I say that you don't know love until you're love by Aunt Elia is an understatement. I cannot even put into words how much the woman loves her family. Just an extraordinary person. Uncle Nick has three children, two boys and a girl, Aunt Elia has three boys and my grandma had my mom. the seven of them were raised together and are all, in my mind, like siblings. Well today, my Aunt Elia lost one of her three boys, my mom lost one of her "brothers" and the world lost one of the finest individuals I knew. My cousin Michael. My cousin Michael and that's how I referred to him even though he is officially my mothers cousin, lived in Deerfield Beach, Florida. The east coast, between Fort Lauderdale and West Palm Beach, and has for as long as I can remember. The man was always there with a card for everything. When Rachael and I bought our house, the first piece of mail was from cousin Michael. Birthdays, holidays, a funny picture or article that made him think of me were always waiting for me. (Side note: the first text was from his brother cousin Bobby. Just me saying what good people they are)
I just heard from mother the other day that cousin Michael was planning a trip to the gulf coast to see our house and visit Uncle Rocco and me. I have a work trip in October which takes me to West Palm Beach and I was looking forward to finally getting to visit him.
Today my family lost a great man, one that, like his mother, has a huge heart and even bigger smile. Thank you for always being wonderful to me, cousin Michael. You will always be thought of so very fondly and I will miss greatly the notes, the occasional and extremely unnecessary twenty-thirty-forty bucks, whatever it was. Say hi to Aunt Dolly (my grandma) and Uncle Nick for me please!!! I will miss you tremendously. I can rest easy knowing your suffering is over. Rest in peace cousin Michael!!!
Love, Casey
Monday, February 20, 2012
New Home...New World
So I decided to write on this thing because of www.wanderinglavignes.blogspot.com pretty much called me out. You see, I used to use this thing to pass along all of my "antics" and experiences. Tucker Max has a blog and he's a bit over the top with his experiences. I didn't want to do that, just wanted to pass along my stories. Ever since college, things always seemed to happen to me, probably because of me and my friends and I liked to tell the tales. I've never had any difficulty making fun of myself. It's when others try to make fun of me do I get a little defensive, but I guess it's my fault for sharing my experiences or stories with the world with no care.
So I wrote my last blog for my father, who is my hero, idol, mentor, friend, and every other possible thing you could think of. My parents are wonderful people and they happen to be in Florida currently visiting me. Now most of my people know that my parents are the proudest grandparents of the three best nieces and nephew someone could have, so a lot of their time is spent driving up to Massachusetts to visit them. Understandably so. But I've "complained" in the past that their other son lives where it is currently 82 degrees in FEBRUARY! But the caveat is, it's a flight, hotel, rental car trip, and of course they always buy me something. That's the wonderfulness of my parental units. Whereas, they can drive three hours + to Ole Dirty's house to visit the kids...and my brother and sis-in-law as well. So I really enjoy it and embrace when my folks come to town. Of which, they are here now.
I tell you that, Mr. Blog-thing to tell you that I do, in fact, have a new home. Gone is Davis Islands near downtown Tampa, and hello to the suburbs. I'm sure Beef and -Ette can tell you that the ride to the burbs from downtown Tampa is about 25 miles or so. What's funny about Florida, or this area in particular, is that we're just one town north of Tampa. It happens to be in a different county, but it's still just three miles from the line. The house is awesome, and the wonderful Miss and I are decorating feverishly and cleaning, and painting (or having the insides painted) and I've now slept here for three nights and it's pretty solid.
I will really miss the Davis Islands life and the fact that I could walk to 7-11 to buy a twelve pack of beer to start my night of debauchery. Now I have to drive to Publix or the liquor store. We have great neighbors and we're already getting acclimated to the life in the burbs.
We have plenty of room now, including two spare bedrooms and even a fouton (it's not here yet, we're working on washer and dryer and lawn mower first). It'll be very comfortable for visitors, and really that's what I'm saying in this post: Come Visit!
Hope to continue my messages here shortly with new antics of neighborhood life!
So I wrote my last blog for my father, who is my hero, idol, mentor, friend, and every other possible thing you could think of. My parents are wonderful people and they happen to be in Florida currently visiting me. Now most of my people know that my parents are the proudest grandparents of the three best nieces and nephew someone could have, so a lot of their time is spent driving up to Massachusetts to visit them. Understandably so. But I've "complained" in the past that their other son lives where it is currently 82 degrees in FEBRUARY! But the caveat is, it's a flight, hotel, rental car trip, and of course they always buy me something. That's the wonderfulness of my parental units. Whereas, they can drive three hours + to Ole Dirty's house to visit the kids...and my brother and sis-in-law as well. So I really enjoy it and embrace when my folks come to town. Of which, they are here now.
I tell you that, Mr. Blog-thing to tell you that I do, in fact, have a new home. Gone is Davis Islands near downtown Tampa, and hello to the suburbs. I'm sure Beef and -Ette can tell you that the ride to the burbs from downtown Tampa is about 25 miles or so. What's funny about Florida, or this area in particular, is that we're just one town north of Tampa. It happens to be in a different county, but it's still just three miles from the line. The house is awesome, and the wonderful Miss and I are decorating feverishly and cleaning, and painting (or having the insides painted) and I've now slept here for three nights and it's pretty solid.
I will really miss the Davis Islands life and the fact that I could walk to 7-11 to buy a twelve pack of beer to start my night of debauchery. Now I have to drive to Publix or the liquor store. We have great neighbors and we're already getting acclimated to the life in the burbs.
We have plenty of room now, including two spare bedrooms and even a fouton (it's not here yet, we're working on washer and dryer and lawn mower first). It'll be very comfortable for visitors, and really that's what I'm saying in this post: Come Visit!
Hope to continue my messages here shortly with new antics of neighborhood life!
Tuesday, June 22, 2010
!THANK YOU!
I'm late in getting this out, but didn't want it to go unsaid.
Thank you...
...for making me the man I am today (albeit that may be scary)
...for giving me discipline, and the trait to always be on time, because if I'm not, I don't eat dinner!
...for not throwing out my citation(s) from Athens, Ga. and laughing at the impending story
...for always dry cleaning my suits for my abundance of weddings.
...for the bagels, subs, french toast, snapple, bottled water, steak, A1...etc, the list would go on for days.
...for always coming to see my shows(even at Clemson), sporting events, and always just being there!
...for always listening to my stories.
...for laughing at my antics.(with hopes that maybe I remind you of you in your younger days).
...for always being there when I need a dime...or a twenty.
...for always getting me where I need to go.
...for putting the insurance and registration in the glove box for me when I'm in NJ.
...for letting me use your car when I'm in NJ.
...for letting me use the gas card when I'm in NJ.
...for being my hero.
...for being my most favorite idol in the world.
...for being the reason I believe in heros.
...for everything.
...for being the best father anyone could ever have.
...for understanding that I've left out so many things in this little note.
...for always supporting everything I do, even if you don't agree with it.
...for always telling me that you didn't care what I did...as long as I had health insurance.
...for being my dad!
I love you dad! Happy (belated) Father's Day! Hope it was full of arts and crafts...even though that should have been MOTHER'S Day, not your day. But that's why you're the best patriarch. Because you're willing to make everyone around you happy by just being you. So willing, gracious, and generous! I don't say it enough, but Thank You Dad! For being you!
Love,
Deuce (because I'm the Sh%$!)
Thank you...
...for making me the man I am today (albeit that may be scary)
...for giving me discipline, and the trait to always be on time, because if I'm not, I don't eat dinner!
...for not throwing out my citation(s) from Athens, Ga. and laughing at the impending story
...for always dry cleaning my suits for my abundance of weddings.
...for the bagels, subs, french toast, snapple, bottled water, steak, A1...etc, the list would go on for days.
...for always coming to see my shows(even at Clemson), sporting events, and always just being there!
...for always listening to my stories.
...for laughing at my antics.(with hopes that maybe I remind you of you in your younger days).
...for always being there when I need a dime...or a twenty.
...for always getting me where I need to go.
...for putting the insurance and registration in the glove box for me when I'm in NJ.
...for letting me use your car when I'm in NJ.
...for letting me use the gas card when I'm in NJ.
...for being my hero.
...for being my most favorite idol in the world.
...for being the reason I believe in heros.
...for everything.
...for being the best father anyone could ever have.
...for understanding that I've left out so many things in this little note.
...for always supporting everything I do, even if you don't agree with it.
...for always telling me that you didn't care what I did...as long as I had health insurance.
...for being my dad!
I love you dad! Happy (belated) Father's Day! Hope it was full of arts and crafts...even though that should have been MOTHER'S Day, not your day. But that's why you're the best patriarch. Because you're willing to make everyone around you happy by just being you. So willing, gracious, and generous! I don't say it enough, but Thank You Dad! For being you!
Love,
Deuce (because I'm the Sh%$!)
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