"Ohhhhh...Duh!" Why NOT to Consume Artificial Sweeteners

So for the past year, I have been part of a weight loss study for CORE Temple University. In a year, I shed upwards of 35 pounds by reducing my daily caloric intake. The study was designed to compare two groups against each other to see which one would lose more weight, those who drank only water and those who drank diet drinks. I was disappointed to find that I was randomized into the diet drink group as I am not a diet drinks consumer for fear of the artificial sweeteners.

Now those who know me know that I live a pretty natural/healthy life and that diet drinks are very unlike me...but for a year I consumed them. As this study was sponsored by beverage companies (of COURSE they want the study to show that more people loss weight drinking diet soda), we all received free coupons for pretty much all the diet soda we could drink. I picked what I thought was the lesser of the evils: Vitamin Water Zero, Sprite Zero & Diet Orange Crush... I also occasionally purchased other diet fruit waters or diet natural sodas. As the months passed, I began to shed weight, but I also began to have a few very uncomfortable symptoms, such as:

• Headaches
• Dizziness
• Heart Palpitations
• Fainting
• Circulation issues
• Anxiety
• Addictive behaviors towards drinking the diet beverage
• Allergic symptoms, such as the feeling that my throat is closing
• General malaise

I have been wracking my brain for the reason behind this...attributing it to lack of water, stress, a number of other factors...it wasn't until Monday morning that the light bulb went off in my head. "Ohhhhhh...Duh!" And I began to do some internet research on the impact of what I have been placing in my system for a year: aspartame, sucralose & stevia. Stevia...not so bad...but those others? Sheesh! No wonder I've been hitting the floor. I vowed from then on to cease the consumption of artificial sweeteners...

After a very upsetting phone call this morning with a doctor who is part of the study, I am convinced even more that my ailments are related to the artificial sweeteners. She went as far as to remind me that I signed a consent that I would drink the diet drinks, but also said that there was no evidence of any damage related to artificial sweetener consumption. If there is no evidence, then why do you have to remind me that I agreed to it???

Anyway, I am proud of myself for the weight I loss and also glad that this study is over. For a year, I consumed something that I have always been wary about consuming. I apologize to my poor body! I don't respond well to sugar either, but I have been able to substitute with honey or just eating things plain. I have no doubt that as soon as these artificial sweeteners are completely out of my system, my symptoms will decrease if not disappear altogether. I have not mentioned to many others that I have been consuming these diet drinks, but I'm sure for those who now know...your response is the same as mine... "Ohhhhh...DUH!!!"

Boredom, Heart Stuff, and Why I stay out of Hospitals

One would think that after my last Adventure in the Hospital (see:  http://okomfoadwoa.blogspot.com/2012/02/dentist-lidocane-and-adventures-in-er.html ), I would steer clear of any hospital...especially that one which starts with Presby- and ends with -terian.  However, I decided to let the "tsk, tsk, tsk" of friends overwhelm the "nutrition, exercise, water and lifestyle change cures everything" belief of myself, my mother and Owen Brown, my nutritionist/vocal coach/personal trainer/guru.

Lately, I have been passing out...a lot. I mean... one moment "Hello!'", the next moment "kerplunk!" I am always able to steer my body so that I don't hit tables, concrete or sharp edges before I go careening into the ground. I know I need to increase my water intake, but as I am now drinking enough water to store in my hump like a camel and still getting dizzy every time I stand up, I figured, let me figure something else out. Along with the dizziness and passing out comes these crazy heart palpitations that sometimes come out of nowhere.

Now, did I go to the doctor because of my passing out? Nope. I went to the doctor because I slipped & fell in the snow (for fun) and shortly after that was having severe back pain and rib pressure...as well as difficulty breathing. I posted this on the trusty Facebook and received responses that varied from "You better go to the doctor or you're gonna die" to "YOU BETTER GO TO THE DOCTOR OR YOU'RE GONNA DIE!!!" Caving into peer pressure, I made the appointment, only for them to tell me "Nothing's wrong, make sure you stretch your back!"...which still is hurting by the way, and I still have pressure on my rib & lung. So since I was already giving them my copay, I decided to mention my passing out. They ran tests, found nothing, then ran a quick in office test where I laid down, they took my BP & heart rate, then I stood up and they did it again. When I stood up, my BP was pretty much the same, but my heart rate had skyrocketed through the roof and was up there dancing with snow boots on. "Um...yeah..." said the doctor "We are going to bring you in for a tilt-table test"

So forward to a week later, Adwoa is on YouTube looking up "tilt-table test" and hyperventilating. "Oh, gosh...passing out is not going to kill me, but this tilt-table test might!" I had to make myself stop looking.

Fast-forward to Monday, March 17th. As I trembled my way into the hospital, a sea of green greeted my eyes everywhere I looked, but unfortunately green couldn't be a salad anything like that as the visit was a fasting one. Place on gown which covers nothing and sit on bed...nurse comes in and places a very painful IV in my hand. After that, I sat starving, bored, and watching TV...for FIVE HOURS. In comes the doc who explains the test. "No big risks, blah blah blah...you may pass out...blah blah blah, you may get dizzy...blah blah blah... your heart may stop...blah, blah blah" Wait a minute. Did he just gloss over "your heart may stop"??? 

Finally they wheel me into the area where the tilt table test will be done. A bed-looking contraption, a bunch of wires, equipment, other machines looking like a auto garage, and two VERY ANGRY-looking technicians. Ok, um, what did I do? "Ok, so we are very sorry, but we are short-staffed, so we will not be doing your test today. It's not our fault and we're so angry!" YOU'RE angry??? You've got to be KIDDING ME! You show me the Room of Doom, then say "Go away and come back tomorrow"?

So I go back to my room, where a very apologetic nurse offered me food, then yanked out my IV as if I'd just made a very inappropriate joke about his mama. I assume he was just being careless, because he seemed really caring when he offered me food, but when he removed my IV, it hurt like hell! Doctor comes in "No big deal....blah blah blah... I think I know what it is anyway...blah, blah, blah...you need to drink more water, eat more salt, wear compression socks and exercise." So...Doc...you're basically telling me that I'm old, fat & dehydrated. And I need to move my lazy limbs to get better circulation...even though I recently stopped going to dance class because I was getting too dizzy and could barely stand up. I also lost almost 40 lbs within the last year, but I guess that was not recognized either!!! Get some granny socks, drink a bucket of water, get a salt lick and take your lazy ass too the gym! Thanks, Doc...

So fast forward to Friday, the reschedule date...everyone knows my name and graciously ushers me through registration, outpatient room & IV setting. IV goes into my right arm this time and you can imagine my chagrin when I realized I couldn't bend my elbow to text! Speedily they take me to the tilt table test room....which is cold as a meat locker, by the way. Two friendly & funny technicians strap me to the table and say they are going to snap pictures as soon as I pass out. I get attached via various cords to heart monitors, blood pressure machines, etc. My anxiety is through the roof and I am incredibly nervous, but I giggle along because these guys are funny! "Ok, so we're gonna go ahead and lift the table, you just go ahead and relax..." BAM! I passed out in seconds. The technicians were nowhere near me and I shocked them both. They ran over to assist me and lowered the table. I was crying like a baby! It's very scary to pass out and not be able to direct my fall. So the NAYSAYER doctor comes in and I can tell by what he's saying that he DOESN'T BELIEVE I PASSED OUT! As if I would fake something like that. So, he suggests another test and because I am a glutton for punishment, I agreed. One of the technicians joke "You passed out too fast, I didn't even have a time to get my phone out to take a video & put it on YouTube!" So onto test #2

"Ok, so this time, we're going to be right here watching you...I'm going to go ahead and tilt the table...You ok? Ok, look me in my eyes" My eyes had started to cross at this point and I was losing focus. "Ok, count with me, ok?" Count? Counting takes focus and brain power and I was beginning to loose both. How can lifting someone on a table cause this type of reaction??? "1...2...3...37...65...purple...banana... deoxyribonucleic acid..." BAM! I go down again...this time with the technician looking right at me. The doc comes in and I am again crying "Oh...it's ok, you don't have to do the test if you don't want to." "Don't have to do it??? I already DID it!" He is shocked at this. "You mean she already passed out?" I went down in under 4  minutes. He then begins to quiz the technician on all of the signs of passing out "Did you check her pulse? Were her eyes crossed? "Did she yelp like a chihuahua?" The technician seemed annoyed in a "Why don't you go tend to a triple bypass and let me do my job" kind of way. So...naysayer doctor leaves the room for a bit, checks the charts & comes back in and with still a bit of disbelief and states that I have the highest rate of passing out they have ever seen and no one has ever gone down that fast. He prescribes more water, more salt, blood pressure medicine and some sort of medicine which he described would make water and sodium constrict my ankles to get the blood back to my heart and...well, basically, give me cankles.

By the way, I was also told that I may have actually lost too much weight too fast! Really??? After Doc was calling me a lazy pig person just a few days ago.

So...after all of this, I am convinced that I really just need to increase my water intake and get the proper nutrients in...As for this experience, I am strongly considering going forward not to go back to the hospital unless there is a bone or baby jutting out of me. 

Owen, I am calling you for a nutrition consultation!

The Dentist, The Lidocaine, and Adventures in the ER

It all began with a trip to the dentist...yes, that lovely place where sadist "medical" practitioners shove needles into your gums after cheerfully stating "Little pinch!"

It was not a little pinch, it was a BIG pinch! But I took it like a champ and sat still for an hour while the dentist went at my plaque with a sharp hook.

Afterwards, I looked like I'd had a stroke. I paid the copay that you pay people to torture you, bid the office a nice "See you waiter. Ow be heuh in two weeks", and went on my way. I got to work and went on my daily duties. However I began to notice that as the local anesthesia began to wear off, my body began to malfunction. Head began to swim, got dizzy, started to shake, ears started ringing. I put my head down on my desk, but got so thirsty and my water bottle was empty. I basically crawled to the dining hall like I was trudging through the Mohave on a search for water. A client saw me and said "Oh my God, Ms. Adwoa! Are you ok?" Her cute son repeated "You kay??" I said "Yeah...bad reaction to dental anesthesia...", then hung over the water fountain to get some water. Stumbling back through the dining hall, I hear the little boy say "Feel bettuh!"

Back in my office, I nearly went down. I got to my desk, chest began to burn, radiate down my arm, and my office trashcan was the recipient of the yogurt I'd eaten previously (since I'd been banned to soft foods). After chucking my guts, I called the hubby and he did the superhero "I'm on my way!" thing. Unfortunately, he was coming from home in NJ and I had the car...so public transportation it was. He begged me to ask a coworker to come keep an eye on me, but I didn't want to bug anyone.

Laying my head down on my arm, I googled "Negative affects of Novocaine". It was then that I found that Novocaine is now being called procaine and is rarely used by dentists anymore. Instead they primarily used lidocaine ("caine" must mean "things that make you puke"). With one barely functioning arm, I typed in "adverse reactions to lidocaine", and lo' and behold if I did not have every symptom of central nervous system and cardiac failure due to adverse reaction to lidocaine... It was then that I decided I was dying and I may as well type an e-mail to my coworkers asking if they had time could they come and pick my lifeless body off the floor. They descended upon my office, grabbed my keys to leave them for Chuckie and whisked me to the emergency room.

A place I never want to visit again.

I will protect the identity of this hospital, I'll just say that is starts with a "Presby" and ends with a "terian" and is in West Philly.

Firstly, before you get checked in, they want to make sure you're REALLY in pain/suffering. The security has seen it all (clearly me sitting in front of him vomiting into a bucket did not phase him), and the intake personnel are very laid back. I was there for about a half hour before the husband came in to relieve the coworker. I apologized for throwing up in front of her and thanked her for bringing and staying with me. Then it was me, hubby and the two kids. Baby wanted ninny, so I nursed her so that her screams would not echo in the emergency room as they were. In my hazed stupor, I saw a woman walking around with a cloth tied around her face as people in the olden days used to do when they had a toothache...more on her later.

I barfed once more before I was finally admitted. Waiting room wait time: Approximately 3 hours.

Once officially omitted, I stumbled into the back with the assistance of Chuckie and they put me on a gurney...in the hallway. I stared with disdain at the guy across from me, talking loudly on his cell phone "Yeah, I'm bout to get out of here in a bit!" SAVE THE ER FOR US FOLKS WITH REAL PROBLEMS!

The nurse came after about 20 minutes...what seems to be the problem...yada, yada, yada. Baaaaddd reaction to dental injection, I state. Doctor will be with you in a moment, she states. It was much longer than a moment...

I look up and toothache lady is being told to go back to her room. She now has even more gauze wrapped around her face... "I was supposed to get some food!" she declares. The nurses usher her back to her room.

Doctor comes...what seems to be the problem....yada, yada, yada....I explain my symptoms and can tell he is not listening to a word I am saying. "Nausea you say? Don't feel well, huh? You probably are overwhelmed from visiting the dentist. Let's get you some fluids and nausea medication" Pretty much I was saying "I think I'm dying, pain radiating across my chest and down my arms, vomiting, stumbling, can barely stand..." He was basically saying "Got a tum tum ache, huh? Got the vapors little lady? We're gonna stick you on an iv full of water so you can think you are getting medical care and I can tend to the gunshot wounds and other people with real problems!" He did however send me for an EKG.

I get an EKG (still don't think I've found and taken off all of those stickers they put on you). I then get four pricks by a sharp long needle before the nurse gives up and calls someone else to do my IV. "I'm sorry, I should have mentioned it's always difficult to get an iv in me..." I say sheepishly.

The lady in the room across from me begins to howl in agony. They give her the same "What seems to be the problem, little lady?" speal. They leave her several times for long periods of time and her husband keeps coming into the hallway to ask for help. They give her pain meds, but they are not effective...

My mom arrives and takes the kids after fretting over me for a while. I sit with an iv drip, going in and out of conciousness.

I hear a guy in another room cursing and hollering "I'm just keeping in real!!! Get off me!" Just about 500 doctors and nurses, a huge orderly and security guards storm upon his room and soon there are no sounds coming from the room...

Toothache lady comes out again...she now has even more gauze tied around her head, with two ice packs also tied around and the gauze is also now tied around her head like a turban. I wonder if there is a separate mental health ward... The nurses take turns ushering her back to her room "We really need you to stay in your room" Each time she comes out, she gets closer and closer to my gurney. She comes out again with nothing on her head and the ice bags in her hands "I need more ice"

The lady across from me is still howling. She asks for the surgeon. They humor her and tell her...ok, we'll go get him... They stay away for about an hour and come back. "Feel better?" "NO!" The doctor says that he didn't get a chance to talk to the surgeon. He and some nurses talk to her for a while, then he finishes with the lie "Ok, well I'll go talk to the surgeon again." (he'd just said he hadn't talked to him).

Toothache lady comes out...even more gauze is around her face and her gauze turban is bigger than ever! I look to Chuckie and say "Are we on Candid Camera??? This can't be for real!" Soon after, the doctor was happy to announce to toothache lady that she was being discharged.

Doctor came back to me. After an insincere "How are you feeling?" he tells me there was "something" on my EKG that was probably no big deal and that I needed to follow up with my PCP.  A diagnosis of "nausea" and a prescription for nausea medication later and I was being discharged as well... "Nausea!" I yelled in the hallway. "I demand a different diagnosis!" Husband says "Let's just get the hell up out of here and be glad it's not anything worse." As I make my way to the bathroom to change, the husband tries to cheer me up "Look at you in that hospital gown, looking all sexy...Rwaaawl!" I smiled a little, still pissed off that they think I would have wasted my time to come into the ER with a tummy ache.

The most ridiculous six hours I have ever spent in my life...

I have only been to the ER twice before, both for the birth of my children. I don't do doctors and I don't do hospitals...and I never will again...

Operation: New House for the New Year

Adwoa decided a week before the New Year that she wanted a new house. Adwoa had no intention of selling her current home and purchasing a new home, but Adwoa did want her old home to look new. Adwoa titled her plans "Operation: New Home for the New Year."

Adwoa informed her husband of her plans. Adwoa's husband looked at Adwoa as if she had dropped what was left of her marbles, but still jumped on board and decided to assist Adwoa in her futile task.

"This living room carpet must go and it must go now!" declared Adwoa. Adwoa's husband said "Sure thing, dear!", while silently shaking his head at Adwoa's farfetched plans. Adwoa painted the downstairs bathroom, Adwoa painted her infant daughter's room. Adwoa rearranged the entire living room. Adwoa rearranged the bedroom. Adwoa rearranged her son's room. Adwoa threw a lot of things in the trash.  After Adwoa rearranged the living room, Adwoa's husband toor up the carpet. Not only was Adwoa's newly arranged living room now in dissaray, but the floor under said carpet looked like a war had taken place on top of it.

Operation: New House for the New Year came to a screeching halt.

"Grrrrrrr!" grumbled Adwoa to her husband, stomping her feet. "I want a new house! So can't you just scrape up that paint, bang down those floorboards, smooth out those bumps, yank up those carpet staples and plug in those holes? I can see into the basement!"

"Sure thing," said Adwoa's husband, trying to remember the phone number to the mobile unit.

As the clock struck midnight on New Year's Eve, Adwoa was onstage performing...wondering if the New House Fairy had alit upon her home in her absence. Upon her return home, she was dissapointed to find that it had not. The floor was still a disaster, and her son's bedroom looked like a tornado hit it.

Adwoa decided that changing her thought patterns was the best solution. Instead of going for swift and sudden change over a short period of time, Adwoa decided to go for long-lasting change over a longer period of time. Is the home new yet? Not quite yet...but it's getting there...

Typical Day in the Life of Baby Anisa

5:00 AM - Wake up...cry

5:20 AM - After 20 minutes of mommy trying to console me, decide I may as well go back to sleep.

6:00 AM - Cry. Mommy looks extra sleepy, so I cry extra hard just in case she can't hear me. Big brother comes and comforts me.

6:07 AM - Big brother is now tired of me and puts me down. Cry even more vociferously. Mommy picks me up, but mommy's eyes aren't open.

6:30 AM - Daddy comes home. DADDY! :)

7:30 AM - Mommy and big brother leave home. :(

8:00 AM - Eat breakfast. Devour entire jar of baby food in 5 minutes.

8:30 AM - Nap... I'm pretty tired after being up all morning.

8:35 AM - Decide that even though daddy worked all night and is probably pretty tired, I need his immediate attention.

9:00 AM - Nap with daddy...this time I may let him get a few hours.

11:00 AM - Enough napping for daddy...besides, I'm hungry.

11:30 AM - Daddy took too long preparing my food, so I am expressing to him how much I don't like that.

12:00 PM - 5:00 PM - Eat-bottle-sleep-play-eat-play-bottle-poop...wonder why daddy's eyes are so glassy.

5:00 PM - Mommy! Big Brother! :)

5:01 PM - Big brother picks me up.

5:10 PM - Wonder what is taking mommy so long to pick me up.

5:13 PM - Cry because mommy hasn't picked me up yet.

5:20 PM - BOOBY! Yay!

5:30 PM - Daddy leaves :(

6:00 PM - Dinner! Peas! Yum!

7:00 PM - Bath...Scream every time mommy has the audacity to touch or try to comb my hair.

8:00 PM - Fall asleep with big brother.

8:00 PM - 12:00 AM - SLEEP

12:00 AM - Wake up, cry, nurse...put fingers in mouth...go back to sleep...

12:30 AM - Wake up, cry, nurse...put fingers in mouth...go back to sleep...

1:00 AM - Wake up, cry because my gums hurt...mommy picks me up...put fingers in mouth...go back to sleep...

1:30 AM - Wake up, cry because mommy put me back down......mommy picks me back up...put fingers in mouth...go back to sleep...

2:00 AM - Wake up, cry because I want to sleep and nurse at the same time...nurse...go back to sleep...

2:30 AM - Wake up,cry because the milk is coming out too slow...get frustrated...go back to sleep...

3:00 AM - Wake up, cry because there's no milk left. Cry inconsolably for 10 minutes...put fingers in mouth...go back to sleep...

3:15 AM - Wake up, cry because my butt is wet or poopy, get changed by half-sleep mommy, nurse...put fingers in mouth...go back to sleep...

3:30 AM - Wake up, cry because I want to be held...get picked up...put fingers in mouth...go back to sleep...

3:45 AM - Wake up, cry because I don't like the way mommy is holding me...mommy puts me down...put fingers in mouth...go back to sleep...

4:00  AM - Wake up, cry because I cant find my fingers...

4:05 AM - Put fingers in mouth...go back to sleep...

4:30 AM - Wake up, cry for absolutely no reason...put fingers in mouth...go back to sleep...

Repeat...

Black Friday...It's for the birds

I sat in line in the lawn & garden area of my local Walmart at approximately 8 PM, with my friend Anjail. She was hunting for the 32" flat screen tv for $188. Great deal and she was only about the 10th person in line. I asked her repeatedly if she was sure she wanted to do it. It was a 4 hour wait, after all. She decided to stay and I decided to support her. After all, there was a waffle iron on sale for $2.84...and I was going to get that!

I propped up against a bag of birdseed and opened up the smart phone. Anjail was on my right, playing Angry Birds on her phone. A guy was on my left playing Angry Birds on his phone. He, his girlfriend, Anjail and I ended up forming a quick friendly bond and giggled the hours away, laughing at the idiocy of even venturing out in the madness. I started to play Angry Birds on my phone, but my battery was beginning to die.

At about 9 PM, I ventured out from the safety and relative calm of the lawn & garden section. The villagers were getting restless. Everyone stood sentinel around the item they were intent on grabbing first at the strike of 10. Everything was wrapped in Saran-wrap and Walmart associates stood around nervously guarding their jugular veins with both hands, while trying to shield the merchandise with their bodies. They seemed to understand that these people were willing to rip them apart if it meant they would be getting their needed item. The Saran-wrap had been torn into, with some people grabbing electronics and other items way before they went on sale while sales associates meekly shouted "You can't take those yet!"

You see, Walmart, in all it's genius decided on THREE Black Friday Sales, One at 10 PM (toys, appliances and clothing), one at 12 AM (Electronics) and one an 8 AM (ammunition), Unfortunately, this was not very clear to some people...who were intent on grabbing their X-box, Kindle Fire, and large screen tv in both fists at 10 PM and shimmying out of the door. There were even those who tried to buy their purchases earlier, but Walmart had a fail-safe and I personally witness an associate attempt to ring something up, heard a loud "BUZZ!" and she stated "Oh, I am sorry sir...You cannot purchase this until midnight."

Covering my head, I made my way back into the safety of the lawn & garden area. I hung out there until it was 9:45 and figured I may as well make my way back to my waffle iron. At 9:55, after traveling over land and sea, I finally found the Saran-wrapped waffle iron section...

...there was nothing there but an empty palette and a helium filled Mylar balloon that read "$2.84"...

It wasn't even 10 PM yet! But the hungry vultures had descended upon that particular bargain and tore it to shreds. I texted Anjail this information and she texted back "GO GET YOUR BIKES!!!!"

Oh yeah...the bikes!

Completely Gone...

Throughout the store, there were arguments, yelling, people running over other's feet with shopping carts, arguments with the unfortunates who worked that Walmart shift. One lady barreled though a dense crowd, utilizing her cart as a battering ram.

Thank goodness the ammunition didn't go on sale until 8 AM...

It was shameful...just shameful. I took some back roads, grabbed a few things no one was hovering around, made my way to the car, then came back in and found my way back to the safety of the lawn & garden section...but not before someone ran over the back of my foot with their shopping cart and didn't believe apologies were in order. The line for the 32" tv was now out the door of the lawn & garden section, out the door and up and down three other aisles...

Anjail got the tv. I took her back home, drove back home at a million o'clock in the morning and collapsed.

Never...again....Online shopping is my friend...

...Or is it Student, Musician, Mother, Healer, Wife...?

I stare at this computer screen through one bleary eye. The current buzz of the room and weakness in my chest accounts for the whopping two hours of sleep I managed this morning. I am creating a blog on the suggestion of Davina. I think it is an excellent idea. I can express my life through words and others can see what goes on in in the atmosphere of Adwoa Tacheampong: Mother, Wife, Healer, Musician...

This weekend was a prime example of my life in general:

Friday, I oversleep, but still manage to get Kwesi to school on time and me to work on time. I frantically contemplate how to squeeze 8 hours of work into 3.5 hours because I need to leave early. The phone rings approximately 97 times in the span of two minutes and I put out fires, assist with computer issues, make flyers, and give advice...oh, I also do tasks that are relative to my job description.

12:00 arrives and I prepare to leave. This takes a while because I don't like leaving my desk messy. I run downtown. The parking gods are nice to me and I find a parking space right around the corner from the Sheraton downtown...on to play batá for a conference on ethnomusicology.

After the presentation, I'm off to Trader Joe's. I am famished at this point and devour chocolate and sea salt covered almonds in the car. It's then off to pick Kwesi up and take him home...trade car keys for a baby in the span of 10 minutes that I see my husband during the week, then with a kiss he is off to work. Gotta work on my two papers for class. One needs to be 8-10 pages. The other needs to be 12-15 pages. Uggghhh... I do laundry, then work on the paper, then go to sleep.

Saturday, I arise and try to add more to both papers. I don't get much added. Time flies as it comes closer to the time I need to leave to go back to the Sheraton. This time, I am performing with PhillyBloco. Chuckie leaves to go play batá at a bembé. My mom comes over. Anisa smiles when she sees her...that is until she remembers that when Nana comes over, that means mommy and daddy are leaving. Anisa's smile turns to crying. After some moments of consoling, I sneak out of the door. Performance is great and I have a good time. I did a bit of Maculele and jacked up my old lady knee...dangit!

Home again and working on paper until around 1 AM when I cannot keep my eyes open...I succumb to sleep.

I wake up on Sunday a bit late to a baby who is annoyed because I took too long to wake up. Kwesi is outside with the girl across the street, Kareema...he asked me could he go outside when I was fast asleep. Apparently I said yes... I peel myself out of the bed and get myself ready to leave out of the house...off to the studio... Recording vocals with Elizabeth and Susan. The studio goes off without a hitch and I soon head back to New Jersey. I go grocery shopping before heading home. Now, I must REALLY tackle my papers...after all, I have a 2 AM deadline (midnight, MST).

My vocation is Mental Health Counseling. I am midway through my quest for a Master's Degree in this field. The first paper I must complete for the end of this semester is for my Diagnosis and Assessment class. I must present a Five-Axis Diagnosis of an individual, fictional or real. I chose Animal...yes, the Muppet Electric Mayhem drummer. I decide he is manic-depressive. With one page left to the paper, I hit a mental roadblock. I decide to turn in the paper under the page requirement. I rather have points taken off for failure to meet the requirement, than to fill a page with fluff. Anisa wakes up...boob time.

Next paper: for Lifetime Development class. Lifetime development of an important individual. I chose Miriam Makeba. I have worked on the paper for a few weeks...so I only need to add... TEN pages to meet my page requirement. Melancholy continues to hit me as I write this paper. Miriam Makeba is my idol. I wish I had the chance to meet her before her death.  Half-way through my goal, my laptop overheats. It becomes sluggish and disagreeable. I hurriedly e-mail my paper to myself. Anisa wakes up again...boob time.

I switch my work to my desktop. Working furiously to complete the last few paragraphs, I fail to save every few seconds as has become custom for me when working on something important. My desktop computer decides it has had enough. It faints. I nearly faint. The computer tries to turn on again. It faints again...and again. I begin to cry. I turn the computer off completely, then turn back on in safe mode. I am able to reopen my document and realize I lost an entire paragraph. I have no idea what I wrote, nor do I care. I can't access the Internet in safe mode, so I have to roll back my computer to fix the issues. This takes a while. I try to occupy my time by taking out Anisa's clothes for the next day and doing laundry. It is way past the 2 AM deadline. I don't see Anisa is asleep under her blankets on the floor. I trip over her and wake her up. Chuckie comes and gets her. He has stayed awake this entire time in order to support me.

The desktop is finally over its issues and I am able to complete my paper. I go slightly over the minimum of required pages...slightly...the paper is about 12 and 1/8 pages long. I hit send to submit and breathe a sigh of relief. It is 4:30 AM.

After a hot bath, my husband rubs my lower back which is killing me. It is 5 AM. I contemplate just staying awake so that waking up in 2 hours won't be as painful. I decide to go to sleep....

Anisa wakes up again...boob time...



Just a catch up to my weekend. I promise that most other blogs should not be this long!