Once upon a time I used to be a productive member of society. I traveled, I had a "normal" life. I also had several congenital birth defects doctors used to tell me caused nothing. I finally gave up trying to figure out what was wrong with me because I was sick of them telling me the symptoms I was having were "all in my head". Since I have a brain tumor I like to fantasize about who I wish I could be instead of living with the reality of who I have become and part of my playground used to be the internet but now that they have insurance investigators out and about to make sure you aren't trying to earn a living or make pocket change with what few talents my disease hasn't robbed me of yet I need to make life abundently clear for these morons that have nothing else better to do with their time or energy that I can not do what I wish I could even if it is still idealistic of me to think or hope that I can.

What would you do for $700 a month? If you knew that you were dying and you could feel the process take place how would you react? The fuckers at the insurance company are cutting off my balls and taking away one of the delusions of one way I could make pocket change because living on $700 a month minus 25% of lawyers fees gets you really far in Los Angeles. And since there are "so many doctors" (extreme sarcasm) out there that even know what the hell Syringomyelia or Arachnoiditis are I want to live in bum-F*k USA so that I can be told there is nothing wrong with me again like I did when I lived in Kentucky all those years and my neurologist didn't think I should see a neurosurgeon or update my MRIs and though having something clogging CSF from moving into my spine and "feeing" it was perfectly normal.

So let's clear up some facts about yours truly for the insurance assholes just trying to feed their families:

Fiction: I like people to see what I once could do or even imagine that I could do something like what I am doing for them. Design websites, photograph and write. My designs are nothing like what people do these days. I tried to learn flash, I can't do it. It takes me months to attempt to work on anything now. I can't even finish editing my book that was supposed to be done two years ago because I keep forgetting what I need to do.

FACT: I HAVE NEVER MADE A DIME FROM SOMEONE CONTACTING ME FROM THE INTERNET LOOKING FOR A WEB DESGIN OR WANTING ME TO PHOTOGRAPH THEM. I haven't been updating my sites for ages because I can't remember how or what I need to do. What you see left of my web empire are old designs that remain beautiful because once upon a time I could sit at the computer for hours and write and create. I'm lucky if I can sit in front of the computer for longer than 2 hours at a time. I can't update any of the sites I once could because I have the attention span of a gnat. I get mad at clients for not listening to me. They get frustrated dealing with a brain damaged woman and eventually go else where to get what they need done done.

Would you like to cut my eyes out before I go permanently blind instead of going intermittently blind like I was when I was working full time? I do have documentation proving that while working for Bowne Global Solutions I would have episodes of blindness. Is that because of the cyst in between my optic nerves or the MS? Enquiring minds want to know.

How about you come and cut my unborn son that I was never supposed to have out of my womb too? Take that honor and the only glimmer of hope that has made me happy in the last 16 years away from me now that I am getting used to the idea of hearing a word I never thought I would hear "Mommy".

Fiction: I am a world famous photographer whos vision will be recognized one day due to the severity of my illness and people will marvel that I could even see with my brain tumor as long as I have.

FACT: WHEN I WAS WORKING FULL TIME I WOULD GO BLIND FOR MINUTES AND HOURS.

fiction: I am a writer

FACT:I MY Diaries go weeks without being updated because I get sick of writing how much my life sucks. How can people get excited about you when you spend 20 hours in bed most of the time, have carprel tunnel syndrome and all you can think about is dying because there is no quality to your life? Some people will read about that but I am honestly sick of writing about it.

Ficiton: I am a brain tumor activist

FACT: IF I AM LUCKY I TALK TO A PERSON A WEEK ON THE PHONE AND POINT THEM IN THE RIGHT DIRECTION SO THEY DON'T END UP LIKE ME. I HAVE OVER 30 MESSAGES I HAVEN'T CHECKED IN MY VOICE MAIL SINCE JANUARY. YOU ARE MORE THAN WELCOME TO CHECK THEM IF YOU LIKE. MOST PEOPLE DON'T LISTEN TO ME BECAUSE THEY DONT' WANT