The Overnight

Way back in March 15, 2009 after a night of St. Patty's day celebrations while slighting hungover and waiting for the El I saw a poster for The Overnight and felt strangely and instantly compelled to participate.

A few days later I was all signed up, donation email and letters sent and my butt was now in the gym pretty consistently instead of as sporadically as before.

As some of you may know I have struggled with demons in my head as long as I can remember. My junior year of high school I spent time in a mental ward. I know those people were supposed to be there to 'help' me, it just seemed they were there to cash a pay check. As soon as my insurance ran out....they were gone and here I was with a prescription for Prozac, a lost identity, and a world I didn't even know anymore.

There were many MANY times in my life I would have loved to have just ended it all. The panic attacks, the non-ability to voice what was wrong, the over analyzing of everything I did or said in life. It was a very lonely place filled with deep bought of depression, suicidal thoughts, and the loss of all hope in yourself.

Recently my insurance company decided to drop me from my health insurance plan. The reason? My anxiety medication. What happened then was that I had to cut off my medication cold turkey. When it comes to mood altering drugs, this isn't safe, healthy or even rational, but I didn't have a choice in the matter. Sounds funny but when it happened it just made me more determined to do this walk so other people won't have to suffer through what I'm going through.

I'm by far not suicidal. I rarely get depressed. I have panic attacks. I live in fear of freaking out basically. My mind doesn't shut down, it's in constant 200 mph. Living like this isn't fun, and it IS an illness, just like cancer or heart disease, except this one isn't as widely accepted by people, some doctors, and insurance companies. (Hence decision to do the walk in the first place)

After spending the entire day Saturday pretty much in tears, part of the panic disorder is I always think I'm not prepared so I OVER prepare, I drove myself to the south side of the city to start this little challenge for myself.

Thanks to Jill who saved me a parking spot by her building so I didn't have to pay for parking I walked over the 18th street bridge to find the festivities in full effect. Teams of people everywhere telling their stories, wearing team t-shirts with loved ones lost on them. Honor beads were being handed out, each color symbolizing something different. Loss of a loved one, sibling, parent, spouse, or even a personal struggle. One of the first people I saw there was wearing a shirt that read "I'm walking today for me...I'm still here!" which made me want to hug him. Illumination bags were being decorated and the staff there were wonderful and kind.

I took a spot off to the side in some shade and just took it all in for a moment. I was feeling a lot more overwhelmed than I thought I'd feel. Somehow when your surrounded by people who all know what your going through, it just seems really emotional.

The opening ceremonies began at 7pm and I did cry hearing the stories of so many others. Shortly before they began, I met two wonderful ladies so when it was time to walk, we went together. The first few miles were a breeze, between us talking and not trying to run into a million tourists out ... it seemed like nothing to it.

The next few miles is when it started to rain, but somehow we got really lucky cause it stormed here in the burbs. All we got was some nice sprinkling and wind to cool us down, trust me we needed it. It was even fun to have a native Rhode Islander see a beach across from a skyscraper for the first time. Even at night in Chicago it's hot and humid in the summer. By mile 8, my feet were sure starting to feel it. After a sock change, some friction protector, and some stretching, we were off again.

Now in case you don't know, the Overnight is where you walk literally through Chicago at night. Of course being Saturday night in the city, there bars were hopping and the drunks were out. Somewhere around this time is when some douche bag (not Jon Anderson this time) asked if he could get some beads if he showed me his cock....ummm...LADIES PRESENT. So I informed him I didn't bring my magnifying glass and kept trucking. And some bitch in a dress that LITERALLY I saw her the bottom of her ass hanging out of bitching about how she has to share the sidewalk with us. Sorry we're working your corner here sweets but we got a purpose in mind.

For every douche bag/bitch out there though there were the amazing moments where you'd go to cross the street and some volunteer would thing you or start cheering for you. Or you'd round the corner and you'd have a group of people just cheering you on thanking you, high fiving you pushing you to that next mile. The fricken Girl Scouts were there! It's a feeling I can't even begin to describe and it just helped push you on.

Mile 10ish, is the midnight snack. Sandwiches, chips, pasta salad, brownie and drinks...after sitting for about 15 we couldn't sit anymore otherwise we would have never gotten back up. Now it's all downhill from here...or so you think. Even though there were fantastic workers in the bars and theaters around Lincoln Park and Old Town handing us water cheering us on thanking us, which was awesome...the rest was by far NOT downhill.

The distance between the midnight snack and the next rest area was (and I SWEAR TO IT) the longest distance on the whole event. It took forever to get there! By then your really feeling your blisters and now your making your way into the Loop. Right before the loop, we came to the rest stop. Mind you, me and my 'bathroom breaks galore' self has only gone once since I left my house. I'm so covered in sweat, who needs to pee! I just need some freaking Gatorade please!! I remembered me and my over preparedness had packed Advil, and the ladies and I decided this was the best idea of the day.

Last 4.5 miles at this point. The cheers have tapered off a bit...people were in the quitting stage...and trust me, the ladies and I were considering making it to the next stop and just calling it quits. Sounds silly but I think the Advil pushed us over the edge. My hip flexes weren't screaming as much, my feet were on fire but it was tolerable to an extent, we went RIGHT THROUGH the last rest area at Navy Pier in the push just to get DONE!! I could see Shedd Aquarium...I know Soldier Field is basically right behind there....I'm doing this!!!

As you round the bend to get to the final few steps there's a whole line of illumination bags lighting your way. Decorated in memory of for all of those lost. Not only had I made one for Ryan, the brother of a childhood friend, and Kurt, the frat brother of a dear friend of mine, but I had created one for Randy Pratt. I wrote the poem he wrote from me MANY years ago on it. Along with all these memories I had, I saw how so many others were touched. Between the loved one lost of one of the ladies I was with, and the father lost to the other...we all made it together trough the night and the last 18 + miles of pain, knowing we were all going to feel it in the morning, but we did it. That's when you see the finish line, with the hundreds of people the balloon arch and everyone cheering louder than I have ever heard cheering before, or at that moment to me it seemed anyway.

Approximately 6 hours and 10 minutes after it all began it was all over. Victory shirt in hand, and the though of crossing the 18th street bridge again terrifying (there's an incline) we had done it.

On my way home, I turned my phone back on and got wonderful texts from Jimmy, Mike and Liz encouraging me. Kivi texted me at 3:15am to tell me how proud he was of me. And Rob even called me at 4am to see if I was ok. I can honestly say 2 things. One, no one on the PLANET needed a shower more than I did when this was done. Two, the worst pain of all of this was getting out of my car after sitting for 45 minutes in the car. That 2 flights of steps to my apartment was torture.

Of course even my insomnia laughs in the face to a 20 mile walk. I went to sleep at 5am after a much needed victory beer, and was up again by 8am. Hip flexes were KILLING me, and my feet needed to be elevated. All in all though, I'm pretty sweet. :)

Crazy thing? Well one I have the need to go to the gym today, but the blisters on my heels are so swollen that I couldn't get my gym shoes on if I tried (and I did try). And two, I would do it again in a heartbeat. No question.

Saturday night into Sunday morning even though by the end of it I wanted to give the city the finger, it was by far one of the most rewarding, eye opening and amazing things I've every been apart of. The sense of accomplishment bay far out weighs the pain of the injuries. As so many were out getting wasted throughout the city, I was making a difference, even just a small one, in a cause that takes more lives every year than cancer. I feel very validated in my painful feet today....very very validated. I earned this monster blisters, and I did a damn good thing to get them.

What I like to call "North Shoreitis"

For those of you privileged enough to live in the Chicagoland area, you are well aware of what the North Shore is. For those of you who are not, let me put you into perspective for you. You know that area of your surroundings that the houses cost no less then a million, the women run around in yoga pants complaining, every child is raised by a nanny, and no one drives less than a Lexus. That my friends is where I work.

Land of the wealthy and privileged, do not for a second try and tell them what to do, or when, they have their own clocks for they are far too important to deal with your schedule. You are expected to go by theirs.

Now I work in a dental office as their office manager, basically this means everything my boss (the dentist) does not want to do. Answer the phones, schedule patients, billing, insurance, babysit his kid, run errands whatever the man decides to make me do that week so he can go golfing. In this position I have become more than capable of dealing with those people who either:

1. Want to blame everything that goes wrong in their life on me. i.e. traffic, forgotten appointment, their bill, or even better their poor dental hygiene.

2. Even though they make 1.8 million dollars a year, they still want everything for free.

3. Just plain like to scream.

Now one thing I should point out to you, you can definitely get on my good side by asking nicely. I will go out of my way for my patients that are sweet and kind. I've developed a very thick 'bullshit' skin though so your bitchiness won't work on me. You'd me more inclined to hear me say something along the lines of "Looks like some bored housewife needs a serious pounding" than you would hear me squeeze you in for an appointment.

The last few days have been challenging in my world to say the least.

Let's talk how my week started shall we?

Monday: Cody has said appointment at noon. Cody is an 11 year old child who's parents consistently show up 15 minutes or more late for an appointment. Cody doesn't show up. Now mind you I called and left a reminder message AND gave them an appointment card before leaving. Now Doc is absolutely the worst to deal with when an appointment doesn't show. (again, he's from the North Shore, this must be my fault) Oh well, looks like that patient is going to be charged that $50 missed appointment fee.

Tuesday: Cody's here. At 12:25. Officially 24 hours and 25 minutes past his appointment. His mother sent him in by himself as usual. I already have a patient booked and in the chair. He runs out to get his Mom, Diane, to which she storms in...here's where it gets interesting.....

First I explain they have arrived for the appointment on the wrong day. To which she screams at me that I am wrong. Even though the person who actually was scheduled booked her appointment almost 2 months prior.

Second I explain that even if her appointment WAS today, I wouldn't be able to see them because they are 25 minutes late. To which her reply was she drove as fast as she could to get there from the school.

Now I'm trying to get out of her when would be best to rebook her appointment...she's still screaming obscenities regarding this is taking out of her schedule and time she can not keep coming to the dentist (her kid has 9 cavities I mind you they need to be taken care of) how I should just see them anyway...blah blah blah. I'm trying to talk her off a ledge here and the women proceeds to then haul back and ... ready for it? ...

THROW HER KEYS AT ME!

Now, I don't think I've seen such a tantrum since my 2 year old niece wanted to wash her hands so badly at the Olive Garden. I'm waiting for this women to throw herself on the floor and start kicking her feet wildly. Thankfully...I just called her behavior uncalled for, booked her an appointment for Thursday, and pointed toward the door.

(FYI, had she had been nicer I would have told her she could wait a 1/2 hour and we'd see them in the cancellation spot I had. But she wasn't so I didn't)

This set the tone for the rest of the day...nothing but complaint after yelling after blame thrown..and we lost 4 patients due to the doctors sometimes caviler behavior.

Wednesday: Seriously?! I don't even know where this day went it was so busy with paper work, insurance nonsense, and pre-treats GALORE! It was a plethora of paperwork.

Thursday: Which is by far my longest day of the week. Not only do I work from 8am till 7pm but the day slowly drags on for an eternity since it is my "Friday". This Thursday though it's like someone threw a stick in the spokes of my ten speed.

EVERY SINGLE PATIENT showed up late. And not just a few minutes. Any where from 10 to 25 minutes late. (with the exception of our last patient who kindly showed up 15 minutes early, praise the lord)

First of all one of these wonderful patients was Cody....you remember Cody right? His mom threw keys at me on Tuesday? Well Cody comes in, alone 25 minutes late. Now I feel bad for the kid, he really needs this work done and his grandfather just dropped him off as if he were 22 not 11. We end up seeing him but left several messages today regarding the need for Diane to call us and address this issue. (These calls have not been returned as of yet)

Second, I don't know if you know or realize this, but it is NOT, I'll repeat that, N-O-T ok to show up at any medical health facility late. Not even 5 minutes. It's especially not ok to do this if you don't even call to say, there's an accident, or my grandma just fell down the stairs and broke a hip.

Medical/Dental practices are normally very tightly booked. Which means, we usually have about 3 to 5 minutes in between patients to reset a room. If you show up early, chances are we'll be able to see you early. If you show up late, chances are you'll be rescheduling because we have another appointment booked right behind yours. Most offices try to run smoothly and on time. If you go to the doctor and end up waiting for 10 to 20 minutes, trust me don't blame the doctor. Blame the asshole that showed up late 3 appointments before you and knocked everyone off schedule. 90% of the time that's the case.

We make mistake in the field, we're not perfect, but neither are you. If I make a mistake, I'll apologize extensively. If someone in the North Shore make one, they'll find every excuse to make it mine. (including forging appointment cards in their favor...oh yes I've seen it, like I don't know my own handwriting)

So it's 6:38pm, I'm been attempting to write this since 11am but keep getting interrupted but a steady stream of late, irate, and self entitled North Shorians. Ah...fuck it...I'm going home, a beer awaits my rough week.

I'm totally going to marry it ...

If there was one invention in this century I would have to say takes the prize for best invention EVER it would have to be texting.

I fricken love this shit. Reason I will list below for you so you can more understand my love affair with this wonderful creation of modern technology and will totally explain the wedding invites with 'texting' as the groom.

Without further ado ...

Top Five Reason's I love texting:

Number Five: Really where else can you have ridiculous conversations like the following?

ME: So I'm on a treadmill, iPod blasting in between songs I realize 'I believe in a thing called love' is playing on the gym's stereo. I don't know why but I looked for you.

James Dudas: Yeah, I preform at gyms occasionally. Usually near the treadmills.

Now truth be told, I would have never picked up the phone and called James to tell him that, I was on a treadmill for cripes sake, does James really want to hear my heavy breathing? Nor would I remember that I did it the next time I saw him...but it was such a moron moment for myself I felt James needed to share in my short bus special moment. Truly it was better than my 'dance/running' on the treadmill for the entertainment of others.

Number Four: One of my biggest pet peeves in life is when your talking to someone on the phone, and they are not paying attention to you because they're doing something else. Texting eliminates this problem completely. If you're not busy, respond...if your busy, respond when you have time. Done and done.

Number Three: I HATE the phone. I'm on it ALL day every day the last thing I want to do is talk the mundane to you on the phone. The only person on this planet besides my parents I will sit on the phone with for long periods of time is Nikki. Only cause she's walking home in a bad neighborhood in Chicago. Nothing says "Don't Rape Me" like a girl spouting nonsense on the phone.

Number Two: The hilarious nightmares that are T9 mistakes. Nothing says that's hot like when your phone decides to change words on you. For instance my latest T9 debacle came in the sentence:

"Has a never ending thirst"

Which T9 turned into:

"Has a never ending thrust"

Essentially in the matter of 2 seconds I looked like a spent a hell of a lot of time on my back. For the record....could have been one of the most hilarious things I've ever texted. Well that week anyway.

Number one: I'm pretty much always at work. I work long strange hours on most days so if you want to make plans or get a hold of me. Text. 99.9% of the time I'm not going to answer the phone if you call, I'm probably already on the phone at work. Texting will be the one and only way (besides IM) to get a response from me when I'm at work.

BONUS: How the hell else can you talk about someone who's in the room? I can't tell you how many beautiful text messages I've gotten over time about the whore one of the boys is with, or the plot to murder the bitch with the high pitch giggle with a friend just across the room. Even with that the best of the best is getting little diddys like this one from Kivi at a bar when he was sitting right next to me:

"I just heard the guy in the blue polo say 'I'll do anal, but if I have a rubber left I'll park in the driveway'"

Yes people text's like that is what I literally live for in life.

Love me or Hate me...It's still an obsession

I always second guess myself.

ALWAYS.

I don't know why, but I believe it's hereditary personally. Even when I'm sure I said or did the right thing, I always wonder if I should have done it differently.

Even with the simple things like driving....should I have taken this way instead of that way? Or more complicated things like relationships....if I would have done this would the outcome of said relationship have been better?

Funny thing is, I always come to the same conclusion. Indifference.

Indifference is that spot where you kinda go "Eh, Whatever". I'm here aren't I? No one died, did they? Everyone still has their limbs, right? By this point you've asked yourself every dumb question in the book about what you could've, would've, should've done before you just numb yourself to the emotions and throw your white flag up moving yourself into indifference.

Years of going through the motions has done this to me. I have the motions down like Helen Keller and sign language. I just haven't taught my brain to jump straight to indifference yet. It's a strange place to care a lot for a very little amount of time.

No I'm not a cold hearted bitch. (or snake by Paula Abdul standards) I honestly can't STOP myself from caring about people from the get go. I'm a big ol' softie that way...but honestly I don't have time for your crap, I have enough of my own. So after my 48 hours of contemplation and a little self torture I'm done second guessing...I'm literally done. Call it a wall, call me jaded, call me a gypsy of emotions. Whatever you want to call it...I call it self preservation.

People to me are a constant challenge. Sometimes they disappoint you like the lack of prize in the cereal box. Sometimes they surprise you pleasantly like the $20 you found in your winter jacket.

For me after my little roller coast of second guessing and indifference, I'd rather be pleasantly surprised, so no offense I'll just keep you all down here on this really low step instead of hoisting you on the pedestal. Imagine how you could hurt yourself if you fell?! Or I kicked you off?! This is just safer, maybe here I can teach my brain how to just move straight to indifference, it just seems closer from here.