Yea, I'm THAT Viewer... aka no longer one of Bethenny's girls

When I was a kid hanging with grandma, anyone who crossed her was subject to "a nasty letter." These were not empty threats. I can still see her clearly, sitting at the kitchen table ... Laying down beautifully scripted letters onto one of her many charity adorned notepads (you know - those long skinny pads of paper that come with donation envelopes)... a seemingly unending roll of stamps within arms reach. Her words were elegant and biting; she was a school teacher after all.

Fast forward to 2013... Now even lazy, inarticulate people can write "nasty letters" through social media. However, many of these "joe-lunch boxes" fail to put any thought into composition, audience or purpose. These days verbal tourettes seem to have replaced constructive dialogue. Well, this week I took a page outta grandma's play book, and fired off an angry message myself to the talk show host Bethenny - of all people.

My Bethenny Facebook post lasted maybe 5 min before it came down ... But I finally got what grandma has known for so long - speaking one's mind to "strangers" whom need reality checks is a cathartic experience worth the effort. My Facebook post was about the nauseating twitter backlash to the new Miss America, and Bethenny's failure to address a serous epidemic in this country: racism. ( See below)

Racist Tweets Against Davuluri:

 

My Facebook Post on Bethenny:

 

He Stole My Heart, So I'm Stealing His Last Name

"Before you cross the street take my hand. Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans." John Lennon, "Beautiful Boy"

I guess I'm guilty of writing when I'm worried ... Sort of like only going to church in times of trouble to seek strength - instead of also going in times of joy to sing praise. I often wonder if God sees me in moments of happiness and sighs, wishing I'd "check-in" more with good news instead of always bothering him with zombie-apocalypse worthy "worst case" scenerios. 

It's no surprise then that I've been neglecting my writing ... lately I've been busy living a wonderful, love-filled life. So I wanted to share one of the happiest moments in my journey with all of you, who have stuck valiantly by my side during the rocky parts.  

A little over a year ago, my days consisted of hospital ERs and going over possibilities of assisted living with friends and family. I could barely walk and weighed about 100lbs (I'm 5'5). The pain was unbearable and the future looked less then bright. 

A  nurse at Sloan Kettering once told me, "we are very good at saving lives here, but not always so good at improving the quality of life." The connection between mind and body, hope and recovery, can not be overstated. The western medical world of pharmaceutically funded solutions keeps us breathing, but it's eastern holistic medicine (yoga, meditation, etc) that keeps us in a place where we see the value in each breath. We need both.

When things were seemingly on an unending spiral downward, I met my fiancé Victor. I wasn't looking for love, it found me. A year later he proposed. I live in Queens now, and my heart truly feels home. My vitals are stable and the symptoms manageable; and my will to live a life with my best friend and incredible future husband is the best medicine God could have ever given me. For everyone who helped me get to the best chapter of my life thus far...Thank you - from the bottom of my heart.

Above picture: four of my students dressed up as characters from Grey's Anatomy for Halloween; my little sister Meredith - who graduates from Med school this year... My students, fiancé, friends and family envelop me in support each day