I've had more than a few people ask me if I'm freaked out about turning fifty later this year. They're always shocked to hear my answer... I. Can't. WAIT!!!! For me, turning fifty is a huge milestone to be celebrated and not feared. While there are some things I would have done differently in my life, I wouldn't change the overall outcome. My experiences shaped who I am today. Literally and figuratively. The heartache and pain I've lived through has made me a stronger woman, one who doesn't take anyone's shit. On the other hand, those same experiences have created walls around me. I don't trust people easily. Not anymore. I've found myself in situations where I've placed my love and trust in people who used me for their own gain. They took what I was more than willing to give to them and left me in the cold. As a result, I no longer take someone at face value. I don't open up or let anyone into my inner circle right off the bat. They have to earn it. Sorry if that offends anyone, but when you get stomped on, lied to and lied about it's a necessary evil.
At fifty years old, I can finally get around those questions about having kids. I wasn't able to get pregnant after YEARS of trying with my first husband. He refused to go to the doctor to see if he was the problem. It was just one of many things that ended the marriage but another lesson learned on my part. My current husband is my soul mate. Together we learned having children isn't in the cards for us and we've accepted it. We've talked about adoption but when we looked long and hard at our lives, TOGETHER we decided we don't wish to have children. Now that I'm approaching fifty, I won't have to deal with those who feel I'm being selfish for not having kids. I don't have to deal with the women who pity me for not being able to experience the joy of carrying my own child. At this age, if I were to get pregnant I could put my life and that of my unborn child in danger. Sorry, but going through a high risk pregnancy just so I can join the parenthood club would be the ultimate selfish act.
I'm in the stage of my life where I can be selfish in other areas. I've worked hard in my career as a veterinarian and now as an author, poet and publisher. This is the time of my life where all the hard work is beginning to pay off. This is the time where I'm once again taking charge of my health—a never-ending quest to lose weight, keep my diabetes under control, and enjoy all life has to offer. At forty-nine going on fifty, I've actually paid my dues and EARNED the right to slow down and enjoy my life. Turning fifty will be the celebration to kick off the next phase of my professional and personal lives. Veterinary medicine will take the back seat to my writing. Both will stand in line behind my plans to see more of this country. There is so much I want to experience and it's all out there. All I have to do is take the leap of faith and have a ball! Follow your dreams!
Hi Ho, Guys and Dolls! Did you miss me? It's been a rough few months of crazy veterinarian schedules, writer's block, health scares and plain old exhaustion but now I'm ready to dive back into my blogs.
With all I've gone through, you would think I'd want to curl up in a ball and escape the world for a year or two, but Lady Fate has other plans for me. The scene where fictional cast of Seattle Grace works their butts off to save their friend is one I've had to deal with as a veterinarian far too often. In the show, they saved Callie. In real life, my colleagues and I weren't so lucky with a few of our critical patients. It's hard to accept there will be cases where no matter what you do, how hard you pray, how much Eastern and Western medicine you throw out there your patient will still lose it's battle. The cute little Labradoodle puppy that damn near broke me this week lost his battle against Parvo. I had to be his advocate and say enough was enough. His pain was too great and his body too frail. He placed his little head in my hand and snuggled as I gave him one last injection. I wanted so badly to curl up in that cage with him and forget the world.
Sometimes it's just too much. Then the next one comes through the door on the edge of death and somehow you gather yourself up and give it your all. This time it works. The 10 month old puppy who was left for dead in a ditch after a car slammed into him is coming around. Thankfully no broken bones but other injuries leave him in critical condition for the following 12 hours. The little stinker rallies and is able to go home 48 hours later to his loving and very grateful family. These are the reasons I continue to do what I do and not curl up in a ball and forget the rest of the world.
They're also the reason why I won't stop writing and publishing my stories. Both of my worlds are a part of me. I am not ME without either of them. As soon as I let that sink in, the writer's block crumbled and I'm itching to get back into the worlds of my characters. Of course that means my smart ass self is back to share my thoughts on all things in the veterinary world, publishing, authors helping (and hindering) other authors, and my other passions like food and crafts. Not Enough Time in the Day was the very first blog I started after Siren Bookstrand agreed to publish my first novel For the Love of Quinnnearly five years ago. In a few short months, the rights to that book will be reverted back to me. I'm thrilled at the prospect as I have plans for that monster sized novel! I'm splitting it into two books and adding scenes back in that had to be cut the first go around. Next year, I'll get the rights back to The Island (Now and Forever 2). At that point, all of my books will be under my control and I have to tell you it feels wonderful to say that. I'll be forever grateful to Siren for giving me a chance, but it's time I move out on my own with everything.
Speaking of moving on... The last year I've been the regional relief veterinarian for a group of hospitals here in the Seattle area. They've decided to go in another direction and have offered me a fabulous contract to work full time between two hospitals instead of 13. March 1st is the start of that new venture and one that will give me a set schedule for writing again! This is the final year I can say "forty something" for my age. It's opened up many hours of reflection for me and going through the posts I've done for my memoirs, I've decided to put it all together in one book to be released at the end of the year to celebrate. The Fat Chick posts will continue. I have too much to say on things to let that go. LOL! If you've been here before, you may have noticed I've changed the side bars up to include some ad space and links to favorites. Starting this month, I will be offering ad space for sale at the top of each side bar. I'm working on the guidelines and pricing and will have a separate page for the information. You'll be able to find it in the menu tabs at the top when it's ready to go. Payments will be accepted ONLY through Paypal. The Fat Chick posts, Writer's Words of Wisdom, and veterinary posts will have their own index pages also listed in the menu tabs at the top of the blog. This way you can find them in one spot. Of course, you can always use the new search this blog feature in the left side bar. I'm off to help the hubby work on his new blog Pint For You And Me. He's featuring everything he knows and wants to know about brewing beer from the home, small breweries and others around the world. Until next time, The Fat Chick (Tammy)
Hello all, It's with a very heavy heart that I write today. An author who inspired me to keep following my dreams with all four of my pen names and continue self publishing with Sassy Vixen, left the world this week.
Brit Blaise (aka Judi Thoman) fought cancer and won the first time it entered her life, but the second time blindsided her. She fought hard and soldiered on during the battle, continuing to write and share the posts of other authors through social media. Finally her body could take no more and she moved on to the next chapter. Now she's free of the pain and never has to battle fucking cancer again. Sorry. Normally I don't let the swear words fly on this blog but I'm pissed. It's not fair someone can win their battle against breast cancer only to have it thumb it's nose at her and come back with a vengeance. It seems to me there are more than enough people for this nasty group of vicious killers to attack. Why does it have to go for seconds or even thirds?
I know that sounds morbid and that if it wasn't Brit, someone else would be attacked. Well why not some of these evil shits who take great pleasure in causing others grief? Why does Cancer have to bulldoze it's way into the lives of caring, loving, people? Where is Karma? When someone gives so much back to her peers why did she have to go out this way? Where was her reward for paying it forward and reminding people to live every day as if it could be their last and follow their dreams wherever they may lead? Where is her kudos for going through hell and back the first time? Losing Brit has brought back so many of the memories and emotions I went through losing my dad in 2005 to Non Hodgkin's Lymphoma. He braved through EIGHTEEN rounds of chemo and the original tumors continued to grow. He did everything right. He quit smoking nearly thirty years before his diagnosis. He was physically fit, a retired Marine, and worked for the local police department. At the same time he developed his own company and traveled for speaking engagements. He was the last person you would think cancer would strike down...
#fuckcancer A year after his death, my uncle (Dad's brother) was diagnosed with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia. Our family had to go through it all over again, but this time the cancer was knocked back and my uncle is still in remission. I have had a lump in my breast for several years now. I've had it checked out multiple times and it remains benign. The last mammogram confirmed it too. My doctor has suggested additional testing for myself and my other family members since there is breast cancer and others on both sides of the family. Up until now I've been reluctant to pursue it. With the loss of Brit and several other author friends dealing with various types of cancer, I've changed my mind.
I've finally found my happily ever after with my husband Liam and I'll be damned if I'm going to miss out on any moment of it because I'm too scared to find out the full extent of my health issues. I owe it to him to be tested and more importantly, I owe it to myself not to be cheated out of my life because I waited too long to be diagnosed. I'm setting up my doctor appointments for the coming weeks and taking charge of my life. Enough hiding!
Welcome back to this week's edition of Memoirs of a Forty Something Fat Chick. This week I'd like to share a secret... I love naps.
I swear as soon as the clock struck midnight on my fortieth birthday, not only did my bladder shrink to the size of a walnut, my vision wet out the door, I had more hot flashes than a Vegas pole dancer, but my body immediately wanted to drop off for some zzzz. WTF?
Actually, I'm not really complaining about that one. I've found a power nap in the afternoon can give me that added boost I need to get through the rest of the day. I'm starting to rush through eating my lunch at work so I can whip out my travel pillow and take a siesta. Remember when we were in grade school and we had quiet time where we could just lay our heads down on the desk and take a break? Yeah, that's me EVERY DAY now. I kid you not. I live for that little nap and if I can get an hour in...well, let's just say I'm absolutely over the moon. For some reason, being able to get that bit of "me" time not only recharges my batteries, but it makes me think I'm doing something decadent. Sure the house is a mess, but this broad needs to hug her pillow for a bit before she even THINKS about tackling the dishes and the laundry.
When I finally got my butt into the doctor in September, I had taken the art of napping to the extreme. That's when I knew something was wrong with me. The little power naps weren't helping. I found myself dozing off for HOURS and losing an entire day. That wasn't healthy for me or for my marriage. Now that I have my weight loss program going and my diabetes is nearly controlled, I'm back to just dabbling in the dream world during the day and saving all the power sleeping for the nights curled up with the hubby. Speaking of that—Goodnight my peeps! it's 1:33am now and time to curl up and dream a little dream. Until next week, ~Tammy
For me, turning fifty is a huge milestone to be celebrated and not feared. While there are some things I would have done differently in my life, I wouldn't change the overall outcome. My experiences shaped who I am today. Literally and figuratively.
