So far, I can't say that 2008 has been my best year. It's not even in my Top Ten. Problems and bad news seem to seek and find me. The most recent event, which I'm about to share with you, might change my luck. In fact, depending on the outcome, it could turn 2008 into the best year of my life, or possibly the worst one. So here goes....

In January, I started having problems with my eyesight. It seemed to be deteriorating rapidly and I started experiencing weird optical illusions. The first time it happened, I was at work. Without any warning, the vision in my right eye started to shift. I couldn't focus on anything, everything kept moving in this bizarre, kaleidoscope-like fashion. Even when I closed my eyes, I could still see the shifting shapes against my eyelid. It lasted for over an hour. When it ended - as suddenly as it had started - I was in a severe state of panic. I immediately made an appointment to see my optometrist.

I'll spare you the details of all the visits I had with the eye doctor. Suffice it to say that they spread over four months and involved a lot of stinging drops and blinding lights and were far from being pleasant! The weird optical illusions kept coming back and were diagnosed as ophthalmic migraines, which are annoying but apparently harmless. Only my migraines presented some unusual symptoms that my doctor wanted investigated further, so she referred me to an ophthalmologist.

The visit with him (early August) was more of the same: stinging drops and, you guessed it! More blinding lights!! Also, lots of questions:

"Do you experience these migraines in both eyes?"

-Nope, only the right one.

- Are you sure it's only the right eye?

He seems suspicious.

- Yup. If I close my right eye when I'm having a migraine, I can see perfectly fine with the left eye.

- Ok, let me ask you this again: Are you absolutely certain, without the shadow of a doubt that it only happens in the right eye?

He sounds like Dr. House and he's starting to make me nervous. When I close my right eye during the migraines, I do seem to see fine with the left one, but I can still see the shifting shapes from my closed right eye. Or is it my left eye also?

"Yes, I am absolutely certain that it only happens in my right eye", I say, self-assured. Never let them see you sweat.

He doesn't seem happy about this answer. I feel I have failed him somehow.

More questions:

-Having trouble sleeping?
- Well, yes.

-Feeling dizzy even when you're not having the migraines?
- Now that you mention it, there have been a few times where...

- Having problems concentrating?
- Not really, I mean sometimes I...errr...what was the question again?

- Headaches?
- A little more than usual, yes.

- Have you lost weight recently for no apparent reason?
- I'm not sure I like where you're going with this but, yes. Twelve lbs in the past five weeks is unusual for me.

- I'm going to put you on the list for a CT scan. I want to go see inside your head, he says, matter-of-factly.

- Excuse me?!? I say, stunned.

- You know, just to make sure you don't have a brain tumor or anything that's putting pressure on your optic nerves and causing those migraines. Those are not regular ophthalmic migraines; they last too long and they occur only in one eye. They usually occur in both eyes at the same time.

The room starts spinning lightly. He keeps on talking but I'm not hearing him. I'm still trying to make sense of what he just told me.

"...don't wait by the phone."

- Wh...what?

- I said the waiting list for a CT scan is long so don't wait by the phone. It could be a couple of months before they call you with the appointment.

The next day, the hospital called me to make the appointment for the next Wednesday. At first, I was relieved that I got an appointment so quickly. Then I started thinking that maybe it meant that my condition was more serious than the doctor let on. But then again all these symptoms that I was having could also be associated with stress, right? Although I don't feel stressed out, considering the year I've had so far, it wouldn't surprise if I was! Right then and there, I decided the culprit was stress and I wouldn't worry about it until I knew for sure. That conclusion helped me get through the week.

But on my way to the hospital on the day of the appointment, I started feeling more and more anxious. When I got there, I parked the car and walked the path to the hospital entrance.

As I neared the hospital doors, I couldn't hold back the tears anymore. I suddenly realized that if the results of this test were positive, my future would hold a lot of going through those same doors, again and again, and I didn't want to go through them alone. I didn't want to be scared and alone. The few friends I have, I know I can count on. Same goes for my family. But what I longed for at that moment was the comfort that can only be provided by a significant other, namely, a boyfriend. Since I lack one at the moment, I did the only "sane" thing I could think of: I made one up!

This is how the conversation went as I/we entered the hospital:

Me: I'm scared.
Imaginary boyfriend (who, by the way, looks strangely like Gary Sinise, only taller ): I know sweetie. I'm right here with you.
Me: Thanks, I couldn't do this alone you know?
Imaginary boyfriend: You're not alone. Listen, the test in itself is painless and will be over quickly. We're not going to get any results tonight so no need to start worrying right now, ok?
Me: You're right...

I/we walked up to the reception desk and filled out the proper forms and presented the proper ID and was/were directed to the waiting room. When the technician came to get me, I wanted to ask him if my boyfriend could come with me, but I figured it was best not to, for fear he would take me straight(jacket) to the part of the hospital where they have padded rooms and they spoon-feed you your meals. So imaginary boyfriend (IB for short) squeezed my hand, smiled at me reassuringly and waited until the door was safely closed behind me to pick up the car magazine he had been eyeing since we came in.

Inside the exam room, I was terribly nervous and the technician could feel it. My bottom lip was quivering and I was on the verge of tears again. The poor guy tried so hard to make me feel at ease, cracking jokes, talking about the weather, but he failed miserably. I could tell that my nervousness made him feel uncomfortable.

IB was right, the test was painless and over in about seven minutes. The technician accompanied me back to the waiting room and just as I was walking out the door, he said "Enjoy life!"

As the door to the exam room closed:

Me: Enjoy life?!? What the hell is that supposed to mean??
IB: (reluctantly putting the magazine down) Calm down honey, he probably didn't know what to say...
Me: He's a CT scan technician, it's his job to know what to say and "Enjoy life" is not on the list of acceptable things to say to someone who's facing the possibility of a brain tumor!!
IB: You're right, but you did make him feel uncomfortable and maybe he...
Me: Ok, first, it's not my responsibility to make him feel comfortable, it's more like the other way around. Second, how did you know I made him feel uncomfortable? You were in the waiting room!
IB: I'm your imaginary boyfriend, remember? I'm just a figment of your overactive imagination. What you think, I think. We share the same brain.
Me: Yeah well, you might want to re-think that arrangement, pal! Might want to start shopping for a brain of your own because according to our technician friend here, this one might not be available for long!
IB: You'll be fine sweetie. Come on, let's take you home. I'll run a nice hot bath for you.

When I/we got back home, I skipped the bath and went straight for my pajamas and a bottle of wine! I decided I would allow myself twenty-four hours of utter panic, allowing the darkest, most somber thoughts to reach the surface of my consciousness, acknowledge them, and then move on. Those were not the finest twenty-four hours of my life, and I'll spare you the details. But twenty-four hours is all it took. The next day, I felt better and ready to face whatever is waiting for me. I'm young(ish), I'm otherwise healthy, I have two wonderful munchkins who need their mom around for a long time to come. They still have a lot of milestones to go through and I intend to be there for every single one of them! Not to mention I have a loving, caring imaginary boyfriend who's been there every night to comfort me when it gets dark and I get scared.

It's been a little over a month now since the CT scan and, surprisingly, it hasn't been that bad. Some days I don't even think about it at all until I get to bed at night. One huge blessing that came out of all of this is that I seem to notice and enjoy the little things more; the rich smell of my morning coffee, the delightful melody of my daughter's laughter, the deep dark brown of my son's eyes, the delicious feeling of a hot shower on my skin. We hear it so often: it's the little things in life that make it enjoyable. Yet, it seems to always take a life threatening situation to make us realize it. How sad.

I still haven't gotten the results of the exam, but I haven't experienced one single ophthalmic migraine since June, my weight seems to have stabilized, no more headaches. I'm still sleep deprived, but I think that has more to do with IB than anything else (the man is insatiable!! ).

Getting impatient about finding out the results, I've been leaving messages at the hospital for the past week. No one bothered to call me back. This morning, I decided to show up at the hospital and ask to see the ophthalmologist. It turns out he's on vacation and will not be back until October 15th! It seems that no one but him can give me the results. His secretary explained it all to me. Apparently, the results are in a computer file and only my doctor has the secret code to access it. He could reveal the code to another doctor, but then he'd have to kill him... It's all very James Bond-sy!

I guess I'll just have to distract myself with IB for the next four weeks . Could be worse .

PS: The title of this blog was borrowed from Gilda Radner's memoir about her struggle with ovarian cancer, entitled, you guessed it: "It's Always Something".

I was very excited today. The kids have been on vacation with their dad for the past two weeks. This is the longest period of time I have spent away from them. I miss them terribly and the only thing that got me through today was the thought of seeing their adorable faces when picking them up after work.

My ex-hubby said she hadn't been feeling well all afternoon and had a light fever so he gave her some medicine. When we got in the car, I asked her if she was hungry. She said she felt like throwing up. McDonald's & all the popcorn you can eat suddenly didn't feel like such a good idea.

A mom always needs a plan B so I decided to stop by the video store and rent a DVD instead. We would still spend a nice evening together!

When we got home, I laid my daughter on the sofa with pillows and blankets (and a bucket, better be safe than sorry ), turned on the TV and went to fix a light dinner for the three of us. Soup, cheese and crackers it would be!

When I returned to the living room 20 minutes later, my daughter had fallen asleep on the sofa and my son was nowhere to be seen. Turns out he had snuck to his bedroom to be reunited with his passion of the last few months:

I only allow him to play computer games on rainy days. Today qualifies, so he was not technically doing anything wrong. I asked him if he wanted dinner, he said he had been eating chocolate and chips all afternoon and wasn't hungry. This gave me an insight on what might have caused my daughter's nausea!

I went back to the kitchen, ate my soup while leafing through a magazine, checked on my daughter again (she was still fast asleep) and forced my son to have at least some cheese and crackers, which he wolfed down in the time it took me to pour myself a glass of milk. He asked me if he could go back to his video game. I was about to say no, but then realized that since plan A and B had both fallen through, why even bother with a plan C? I told him he could go back to his game. He kissed my cheek, told me he loved me (parenting tip: they always love you when you say yes!) and promised me that he would spend the whole day with me tomorrow.

Now it's 9:30 pm, my daughter has not woken up, her fever has gone down but I dont want to disturb her. I'll let her sleep on the sofa. My son is getting ready for bed, and I have spent the evening surfing the Net, checking up on sleeping beauty and learning how to navigate the World of Warcraft by watching my son play.

Despite the evening's events (or rather the evening's lack of events), I feel content. My kids are with me, the house feels alive again and even the dog seems to be smiling, his buddies are back!

Some days, you just gotta roll with the punches.

Matthew 22:36-39

36"Teacher, which is the greatest commandment in the Law?" 37Jesus replied: "Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind." 38This is the first and greatest commandment. 39And the second is like it: "Love your neighbor as yourself."

When Jesus uttered those words, he obviously had not met my neighbors. Had he met them, the course of history would have been drastically changed. The Ten Commandments, especially "Thou Shall Not Kill", would have been revised to include provisions that would allow for extenuating circumstances. In short, the world would be a very different place.

Six years ago, after my divorce, I bought the house I presently live in. It's a small townhouse, facing a school, with nice parks and bicycle paths nearby. Ferociously protective of my privacy and being somewhat of a recluse (I have a very, very restricted circle of friends), the idea of living so close to other human beings made me a bit nervous. But financial restraints and time concerns quickly dissipated my reluctance and I bought the house, thinking the area was perfect for my kids and they'd love it there.

Soon after I moved in, I discovered that my neighbors, with whom I share a driveway, were a young couple in their twenties with a beautiful little 2 yr old girl and a second one on the way. They were very nice and friendly and I began to rethink my opinion of human beings in general. Then it started......

At first, it was subtle; a forgotten Frisbee on my lawn, a car parked ever so close to my side of the driveway, a 30 second burst of loud music late at night, a slightly noisy get together with friends on a sunny Sunday afternoon. I dismissed all of it as the inescapable pains of living in the suburbs (I had been living in the country, far away from neighbors for the past couple of years). These small annoyances did not bother me as much as I would have imagined, and I began to think that maybe I was normal after all, and that I had my rightful place amongst other members of my species.

I truly believe that you teach people how to treat you. So I take full responsibility for the way things escalated in the past few years, to the point where I am now secretly plotting their slow and painful deaths.

By not making it perfectly clear to them what I would and would not tolerate (instead, I would politely ask if they could please maybe just keep it down if they didn't mind?), I have taught my neighbors that it's perfectly fine to invade my property, to have numerous noisy parties until 4am in the middle of the week, to park a huge tractor/loader so close to my car that I have a hard time getting the door opened and to have two more kids who wake me up almost every weekend at 5am with blood curdling shrieks. Well people, school's back in! Time to teach them new rules!

In the old days, I would come home from work three times out of five to find bicycles, dolls and other various toys lying around in my driveway, preventing me from parking my car. I would park in the street, get out, walk over to their house, ring the doorbell and politely ask if they could please remove their kid's toys so I could park. After waiting an average of fifteen minutes before they complied, I would finally park my car in its proper place. I did this for five years, yes ifve years! I know what you're thinking; you can wipe that shocked look of your face now.

Last month, I started on their first lesson. I came home to find a small kiddy bicycle in my space. Without slowing down, I drove all the way to the end of the driveway and parked. When I got out, I noticed their 5 year old daughter whose bicycle I had just crushed, looking at me, petrified. I pulled the mangled remnants of the bike from under my front fender, brought it to her and told her that I never wanted to see another toy on my side of the driveway, ever again. I felt bad, but then I remembered that I was the one who gave her that bike when my own daughter had outgrown it and figured that since she wasn't taking care of it properly, I had the right to take it away.

Now let me assure you that I am not a monster or a mean witch. I love children and I know that no matter how intellectually challenged her parents might be (oh! Who am I kidding? They're idiots!), it is not this little girl's fault. I really did feel bad that she saw me. It was not my intention to traumatize her for life. If I had noticed her prior to entering my driveway, I would not have crushed the bike. I would have waited for a more appropriate time. In any case, the lesson was learned. I have not found so much as a single Barbie doll shoe in my driveway since then.

This month's lesson: "How To Turn Down The Volume On Your Sound System". I'm just waiting for my flame-thrower permit to be approved.

Please feel free to share your bad neighbors stories in the comments. It will surely make me feel better knowing that I'm not alone out there. What the heck, why don't you share your good neighbors stories too, it might give me some hope for the future!