That's Church

You know some of this story, but I need to share a bit more with you right now.

Last year some time, or possibly late the year prior, I did a very rare thing medically speaking and tore BOTH of my carotid arteries, because I believe in going big or going home. Why tear one, when you can tear two? If you’re going to risk a stroke, RISK A STROKE, BAYBEE.

A month after the noise started in my head, I landed in the emergency room at AGH, dizzy, the noise in my head deafening, my body heavy and foreign-feeling, my brain betraying me, my color drained … and I was terrified. I can’t recall ever having been so scared in my life.

I cried on and off, mostly on, for the 14 hours I laid in that ER bed as they asked me question after question and ran test after test and shook their heads and staff changed and new doctors asked me question after question and shook their heads. I cried because I didn’t know what was wrong with me and I didn’t know if I would ever get better. I cried because I worried this was the beginning of a long goodbye to my children and my husband. I cried in anger that it was me feeling this way and hearing this constant drumming and vibration, and I became irrationally angry at every human who had peace and quiet, even if they found it in the grave. It’s quiet there, you see. I became so far gone that at one point, I fantasized about just screaming my head off in the ER and ripping down curtains and throwing anything I could get my rage-filled hands on.

It was at about hour ten that I sat in a wheelchair in a cold hallway awaiting my turn to get a CT scan of my brain and neck to see if there was an aneurysm or some other devastating thing happening up there, that I really really felt the fear. I felt helpless. I HATED sitting there in that gown, in that chair, waiting for that machine to take my picture, and all I wanted more than ANYTHING in that one moment was to get the hell out of there, put on my jeans, go home, be a mom, and BE NORMAL AGAIN, PLEASE, GOD.

As you know, I did go home with a 65% blockage in one artery and a 50% blockage in the other. I’m still not normal, as yes, I’m nearing on a year soon of the noise, but it’s true, what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. Noise that would have sent me to bed drugged up on prescribed narcotics last June, is merely an ignored annoyance now.

But I tell you this so that you can understand what health scares, stress, uncertainty, and fear can do to a grown woman; imagine what they can do to sick children. That’s what motivates me to keep Make Room for Kids going and that’s why it’s so important to me now more than ever that we do this. What didn’t kill me physically, almost killed me emotionally. I want to alleviate that feeling in children.

So this is me, thanking you, for once again having my back to the tune of more than $12,100 for this phase of Make Room for Kids.

The thermometer is gone now, but I’ll give you another chance to help the effort soon, because as I said … most ambitious year ever.

We’re going to make it rain games and movies and smiles in two hospitals come April, all because of you.

GROUP HUG.

1. Since I gave up on Wii Steve and Fitty about two years ago, I’ve now begun a new exercise regimen … The Jillian Michaels 30-Day Shred.

Yesterday was Day 1.

Today is Day I WANT TO PUNCH HER STUPID FACE IN.

Everything hurts.

2. Go check out the greatest test answer of all time, written about Roberto Clemente by a fifth-grade girl in North Carolina.

Made me cry a little!

Special thanks to Zach at Uprooted Photographer for sending me the picture!

3. It’s about that time of year again, where the potholes return with their gaping maws of devastation, and Lukey declares war on them, and cars everywhere are swallowed whole without so much as a burp.

Don’t ask me how I stumbled on this video of a Pittsburgh pothole in action, but boy did it make me laugh:

I’m easily amused because I watched that six times and laughed every time.

I know the karma rule and yes, my car is SO getting smote this spring by an epic pothole. All they’ll find left is a lone windshield wiper and an empty Dunkin’ Donuts cup.

4. Holy crap! I’m late to this, but Dottie Sandusky drives like a bat out of hell. I half expected her to just drive like the KoolAid man through the garage door.

The look on WPXI’s Courtney Brennan’s face — “Oh, shit,” is what it said.

5. First, I just want to say that at almost 30-years-old and about to be working with a new offensive coordinator, the Duke of Fug is a giant doofus-butt for saying this publicly:

“I’ve gotten a lot of calls and texts and emails from people around the league, both good and bad about him,”

Way to start things on the wrong foot because you’re sore that your friend is no longer the OC. Who cares if you’ve heard bad things about Todd Haley? Was it necessary to say that in public? To stick your finger in his ribs like that? Is he walking around going, “Well, I’ve heard Ben is a rapist, but I’ve heard good things too. I’m going to wait to form an opinion.”

Having said that, Sean Conboy KILLS it in this post about Big Ben and Haley. MUST READ.

6. Tony Norman pens a fantastic update to the Monessen/Brentwood fiasco.

He touches on Brentwood’s claim that there is no proof of any racist activity occurring during the game.

7. A black vulture from the Aviary is going to be on Letterman.

I hope it’s a live pigeon-eating demonstration.

8. The Make Room for Kids donation button will be coming down tomorrow, so throw you few bucks in if you can and wish to! I cannot thank everyone enough that we have surpassed our goal by over $2,000. What a testament to the generosity of Pittsburghers far and wide. I can’t wait to show you all the stuff we buy with your donations!

9. Lots of you emailed me this link, but wanted to be sure everyone saw it.

Antonio Brown did a cool thing for a Steelers fan.

10. And finally, if you missed out on the vintage, hand-painted bedazzled out the wahoo Pittsburgh skyline denim jacket, the artist has put another one up for sale on Etsy!

I’ve never heard anything scream Chauncy’s so loudly in my life.

1. Do you need humbled?* Are you feeling young and vibrant and full of joie de vivre (literally, “joy the vivre”)? Is there a spring in your step you’d like to see turned into a painful limp?

Have I got the thing for you!

Spend an hour sled riding and snowboarding with a bunch of whippersnappers. Slam your hip into the hard snow over and over again to score the bone for the eventual break you’ll have when you’re in your 70s. Hear people say, “You only stop wrong on a snowboard one time, and then you will never make that mistake again,” and then go and stop wrong on a snowboard over and over and over again, showing those motherbleepers that you’re the exception to that rule.

Eat a few cupfuls of hard snow. Feel the snow find its way into the back of your pants. Feel your armpit muscle get painfully overextended. Learn that, yes, an armpit has a muscle in it and that muscle can be overextended.

Wake up the next morning and curse those damn whippersnappers and their absolutely disgusting, mocking youth. Find ice and a cupful of Advil. Ice the bruise on your hip.

Weep.

Act now, and we’ll double the offer!

2. How was YOUR weekend?

3.  Whitney Houston died and I’m so bummed about it. I always wanted her to get herself together and make a comeback. Someone on Twitter put it perfectly though, that we’re not really mourning her, but we’re mourning our past. So true. The memories I have associated with her are probably what makes me the saddest.

And SHUT UP! One of those memories was of my junior prom date!

The circle of life, internet.

4. Using those tiny bottles of Heinz Ketchup (which you can order customized here!) as wedding favors/place cards really got me thinking about what other ways Pittsburghers (current and ex-pat) have managed to sneak a little or even a lot of the Burgh into their weddings. I asked on Twitter and now I’m asking here. Send me your pictures and a little bit of background info on how you represented our city at your wedding or reception. I’ve got some amazing pictures so far and I can’t wait to see more.

Then I’ll share them all with you on PittsburghMagazine.com!

5. Well this explains why Gary Busey ever agreed to be the spokesperson for Century III Kia (Lebanon Church Road, Pittsburgh! Minutes from the mall!). He’s flat broke:

67-year-old Busey filed for Chapter 7 bankruptcy in California yesterday. Busey checked the box showing he has less than $50,000 in assets … and somewhere between $500,000 and $1,000,000 in various debts.

GARY BUSEY IS 67-YEARS-OLD?! WTF!?

Time is cruel, she writes as she ices her bruised hip.

Oh well. Let’s just watch these again for the thrill of it:

If David Hasselhoff starts shilling for Berger and Green [KABLOOEY!], then we’ll know the Mayans were right.

6. Wendell August Forge expanded the Civic Arena line of goods to include bookmarks, trays, wine toppers, paper weights and more! The money clip would be just the perfect Father’s Day gift for a Pens fan. Wow.

6. Speedy the Cuddly Shoot-Eater, but I’d rather be Slowpoke the Sinning Ben Affleck.

What’s yours?

7. So I’ve heard a rumor that the Disposable Income Kid, who gives away a chunk of money each month, is a lifelong Pittsburgher, and that makes sense because Burghers are generous folks. Plus Burghers are funny, and the D.I.K. is funny.

So why not save your money or invest it?
Um, are you seriously trying to talk me out of giving you money?

Well, no, but there’s no way this can be real.
I assure you it is.

Why should I believe you?
Who says you should? In fact, don’t. Last I heard, there are tens of billions of other websites out there, and I’ve been told that some of them even have naked people on them. Maybe you should visit one of those sites instead. I’m sure they’re giving money away too.

What’s in this for you?
A pony.

Come on, seriously, there has to be something in it for you. Otherwise, it doesn’t make sense.
I’ll give you that one, Brainy Smurf. Nothing about this makes sense. However, there’s just something about giving money away that appeals to me. So either believe me or get lost. I mean, feel free to NOT take my money.

Cool idea. Got my eye on this one now.

8.  Who knew? October 8 is National Fluffernutter Day!

I bet that’s Casey Hampton’s Christmas.

(h/t Hoosierburgher)

9.  If it’s bothering you that we’re so close to $12,000 that we can smell its sweet perfume, then feel free to donate to Make Room for Kids. I’ll be taking the donate button down soon so this is your chance to hop on board the MAKE IT RAIN IN CHILDREN’S HOSPITAL AND AGH train.

We have fun on here. I just saw a monkey holding a margarita riding a dog riding a horse all, “GAMES FOR EVERY CHILD!”

10. If I had a nickle for every time I have ever read or heard, “Evgeni Malkin is no Sidney Crosby,” I’d have enough nickles to probably get us up to $12,000. Sexgoal is on fire, almost earning an empty-net hat trick yesterday, and looking like a real contender to take home some hefty merchandise come awards time.

Evgeni Malkin is no Sidney Crosby because he is Evgeni Malkin, and that’s better than good enough.

*Upon reread, I realize that should have “to be” in there, but I’m not changing it. Suck it.

Well, you’ve earned it.

First, a little back story!

Oh, I was just in love with this boy, but I never really admitted it until I was 37-years-old … so, you know, TODAY. He was my first crush after I finally got over my YEARS long crush on the pastor’s son. Remember him?

As my sister Tina Fey said, “It looks like you glued a Webkinz to your head.” Hey, if all the teenagers today start gluing Webkinzs to their heads, I get credit for that!

My junior prom date went to my church, too; he was a year older than me, and our families were friends; we went to all kinds of church events together, and he was the funniest guy I knew. We could spend hours sitting in the bleachers at a basketball game just laughing so hard we’d almost puke our spleens up.

I have so many distinct memories of him when I was 16 and 17.  The time at my parents house he picked me up, flung me over his shoulder and twirled me around for no reason.

I think that’s when I became a hopeless romantic. Talk about a soaring heart.

Nothing ever happened with him because he only ever saw me as a friend and at that age, I wouldn’t have even known what to do with a boy who liked me back. I was THAT MUCH OF A PILGRIM, YOU GUYS.

Probably, at 16-years-old, if a boy that I liked admitted he liked me back, I would have thoughtfully stroked my mustache all, “Hmm. Is that so?”

So when I was a junior in high school, I asked this boy to go to my prom with me, as he went to a different high school than I did. I still remember the phone call on that special phone my parents kept in the basement bedroom. The one with the button I could hold down so the voice of the person on the other end would be amplified for me to hear. He said yes and I laid on the bed for a while, but in my head I was frolicking in the clouds of Allegheny Ecstasy.

Okay, THAT’S when I became a hopeless romantic.

This was taken on the Majestic of the Gateway Clipper Fleet. Norwin prom of 1991.  The theme is obviously Phantom of the Opera.

But the theme of my hair is “There’s Something About Mary.”

Let’s take it from the top. The hair. Seeing as at this point in my life, I didn’t even really know what sperm was or that it had sticky properties, you can safely bet that the reason my hair is standing up like that is BECAUSE I FIXED IT LIKE THAT.

I took my curling iron, curled those bangs up, sprayed them like that and said, “Girl. You too sexy for your mall bangs.”

Moving down. Make up? I’m wearing some. Believe it or not. Let’s contrast that with today’s girls at their proms:

Whore.

I’M KIDDING! Sheesh. But yeah, WHORE.

Still kidding!

Back to me though! Glasses? Check. Sexy? Check!

Now, you’re asking, “Why are you looking up like so? Is it because you’re imagining Allegheny Ecstacy with this boy?”

No. The reason is because the jerk photographer said, “There’s a glare in your glasses. You need to look up. Up. Up. Up up up. Over. Up. THERE!” And then he snapped the picture so the glare was DIRECTLY IN MY EYEBALLS. Jagoff. Meanwhile, look at my date. He’s wearing glasses too and you can’t even tell he has LENSES IN THEM.

One thing I finally got right though was that the dress isn’t the worst taffetastic abomination you’ve ever laid your eyes on. It’s decent. It’s strapless, so as to show off my hairy arms. SILKY SMOOTH! The reason this dress doesn’t suck is because I borrowed it from my sister Tina Fey who had much better fashion sense than I did. You’ll find no pictures of her looking so virginally ridiculous that Laura Ingalls Wilder would be all, “OMG. OPEN UP A BUTTON OR SOMETHING, PRUDE!”

Granny pantyhose? Check!

Shoes that if I put a buckle on them, a pilgrim could wear them? CHECK!

And then look at my date. Gorgeous. Perfect. You can take him out of this picture and plonk him into a prom picture in the 50s, 60s, 70s, 80s or 90s and he would look like he fit in. Timeless. He can look at this picture and go, “Man. I really had it goin’ on back then!”

Whereas I look at this picture and go, “Nice earrings, dork. Was Hills having a sale that week?”

So there it is. One of the best evenings of my life. I remember he drove my father’s Buick Century. Drove right up to Mt. Washington at one point and I don’t remember why. I just remember being impressed that he knew how to get to Mt. Washington. I liked to watch his hands on the steering wheel.

You guys. Do you think maybe we went up to Mt. Washington and made out just as fireworks started exploding over the city and I just somehow blocked that perfect memory out?

Let’s just go with that.

After that, he went to college and I never saw or spoke to him again.

True story.

WHOA! I had planned to write this morning about how I was pumped for today. Ready to talk to you about how I was going to stretch my muscles, jog in place like Rocky, maybe do a little bit of the Running Man in my living room all, “You can do this. You can do this. You can do this. Pittsburgh’s got this. Today is the day. Stop looking at me funny, doggy. This is how I do the Running Man. We’re going to hit $10,000 today!”

I woke up and we were at almost $8,000. Then I blinked and here we are.  Three and a half days and we’re at $10,000. WHAT THE WHAT, YOU GUYS?!

Let’s not stop though. I want everyone who wants to, to have an opportunity to be a part of this year’s Make Room for Kids effort. That way in April, when I post my install day post and I show you all the loot we delivered to AGH and the cancer unit at Children’s, you’ll be able to know you helped make it happen. That you threw that good karma out there. I hope it comes back to you tenfold.

I was holding this email to help make that last push to $10,000, so I’ll use it now to make that last push to get those of you who haven’t yet donated, a little bit of incentive to do so.

I received an email from Genre Baker:

Hi Mrs. Montanez,

This is Genre.  I am writing you a note about my leukemia.  I am 11 now.  I feel strong now but I remember throwing up a lot.  Every time they gave me medicine I would get nauseous right away.   I liked the bacon at the hospital so much and I couldn’t eat it when I was sick.

I got so many blood transfusions. It seemed like every time they tested my blood I would need to get more blood.  The worst  part was that one red blood transfusion I had to sit there for three hours.  If I needed platelets it took another two hours. Sometimes I got both and it was really long. No, the WORST part is that some kids had to wait because there were not enough platelets for everyone.  My friends went and donated platelets for me every week.

I had to wear a mask if I went out because I could catch germs really easy and my mom didn’t want me to get even more sick.  I wasn’t allowed to go many places but I always got to go to Sunday school even if I had to wear a mask.  Breathing in a mask is hard. All the air gets hot.

You have to wash your hands all the time when you get leukemia.

There are lots of bad things but there were four good things.

1.       I liked all the food at the hospital but the hot dogs.

2.       You don’t have to do school when you are sick. (but we homeschool so when I felt good my mom would have me read.  She also read to me a lot.)

3.       Our friends helped my mom do Genre’s Kids with Cancer Fund and I think it helps a lot of families with good stuff.

4.       The BEST thing about leukemia was that my mom let me play my video games as much as I wanted.  Sometimes I would play them all day!

I hope this helps you know  more about cancer.  There weren’t games when I was there a lot so I will get to play on an iPad when I get my port out.  It is an operation. That will be fun.

Your friend,

Genre.

Hey, internet, go ask a kid what platelets and transfusions and medi-ports are and let me know how many of them answer correctly.

Also, “It is an operation. That will be fun.”

What a positive attitude, because he’s looking forward to playing on an iPad while he recovers from his surgery.

Genre, as he writes, is 11 now, and he’s nearing the end of his treatment for leukemia. He still has about seven more months of treatment to go and that means taking chemo daily, getting treatments monthly, and three more spinal taps.

December 22, 2011

But, on the other hand, the closer we get to the end of this drug regimen, the harder it is to watch him put each and every pill into his mouth. On Wednesday night he takes sixteen pills.

Sixteen pills. Kids who fight cancer might be the strongest humans on the planet.

I’ll put my prom picture up shortly!

Prepare your pointing finger and your laughing muscles for a good workout.

And to each and every one of you who donated, GROUP HUG.