Mel Henry's Blog

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I grew up inhaling books the way most people did air. My mom took me to the library every week as a kid. Most kids my age would check out two or three books. Me? I had stacks - literally stacks of books. Big ones. Chapter books. And I would read every single one in a matter of days. Sometimes, I'd even check them out more than once so I could read them again. Encyclopedia Brown, Ramona Quimby, and Farley Drexel Hatcher were some of my best friends growing up. (They still are.) My mom had to beg the librarian to let me check out more than a couple of books at a time because most kids my age didn't read more than what was required by school, much less did they read like I did. Mom always swore I would write books someday. I didn't care so much about that. I just wanted to read.
In fact, in elementary school, I failed a lot of creative writing assignments. Surprising, right? Not really. When we were given twenty minutes to write a story, there wasn't enough time to develop an outline, characters and a successful story. So I might have gotten the first paragraph or two done, but nothing more, and it would usually be marked "incomplete". When I got to junior high and high school, my teachers began expecting more from me because they knew how much I read. My sophomore English teacher refused to take book reports from me if the book was less than 150 pages, even though she didn't require that from other students. She told me "You're better than all these sappy teen romances." She was right. So I passed up Sweet Valley High for more mature authors like Stephen King and V.C. Andrews. I still devoured the sappy romances in between the 300-page monsters I summed up for English class, of course, but she had encouraged me to step outside my comfort zone.

Fast forward twenty-some years and at least a thousand books I'd devoured.

Writing my own book came as a fluke. A friend of mine discovered an old fan fiction story she'd written in high school, and we noticed that she'd put me in it. My inspiration came from that story. What had "I" done prior to being in her story? Where was "my" history? Bottom line is that she hadn't written one. "I" was a superfluous character. I wasn't okay with that. So, I began writing My Book. That was the title: My Book. Catchy, right?

Four years, at least three sets of name changes, and a lot of editing later, I published my first book, Distance and Time. I never planned on publishing it, much less making it a series. I was perfectly content with my one, silly, little story, but my friends weren't. They urged me further. I was happy with what I'd done. I was okay with it. "Josh" and "Carly," however, weren't done. Before I knew it, I was writing Better in Time, the second book and the finale, All This Time. As I neared the publication date for book three, Distance made it to #154 on the Amazon bestsellers list (out of over one million books). My mind was blown. I cried with joy for days!

Yesterday, I released the final book in the series, All This Time. My entire Time After Time series has been published. Each book has its own set of great reviews, and I have written a best seller. If, at any point, I decide to stop writing, I am profoundly comfortable with my success as an author, and I am grateful to each one of you who helped me with that journey.

I did it, Mom! Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ Ƹ̴Ӂ̴Ʒ

Time After Time full series purchase links:

Distance and Time (Time After Time, #1) Kindle Distance and Time (Time After Time, #1) paperback
Autographed paperbacks: $15 through me, incl. shipping (Contact for details)
Free on Kindle Unlimited

Better in Time (Time After Time, #2) Kindle Better in Time" (Time After Time, #2) paperback 
Autographed paperbacks: $10 through me, incl. shipping (Contact for details)
Free on Kindle Unlimited

All This Time (Time After Time, #3) Kindle
All This Time (Time After Time, #3) paperback
Autographed paperbacks: $15 through me, incl. shipping (Contact for details)
Free on Kindle Unlimited

Amazon UK Links: (Free on Kindle Unlimited)
Distance and Time    (Paperback) 
Better in Time    (Paperback) 
All This Time    (Paperback)

2016? Already? I feel like I just started 2015. Needless to say, I'll be writing the 6 over the 5 for months to come.

I'm in such a great place right now. Truly. It's so different from where I was last year at this time. I'm still dealing with Lyme disease, but thankfully, it went on vacation a few weeks ago and, knock on wood, the symptoms have been almost completely gone. I'm starting to get some energy back (though I still battle with fatigue and exhaustion sometimes) and my brain fog is also at an all-time low. I'm also recovering from carpal tunnel surgery that I had last month. My strength is returning quickly and I'm ridiculously pleased with my surgeon and the work he did. My hands feel better than they have in a long time. I have several weeks to go before I'm back to normal, but all roads seem to indicate I'll get there soon.

The family is crazy as always. Big Man has been at his job for about six months now and loves it. He moved out into his own place and has been adjusting well to bachelor life. He graduates from DMACC in May and is well on his way to incredible success with his company. Boo has been working her butt off and saving money to get her own place. In the meantime, she's just enjoying life with her boyfriend and friends. She will be returning to school in the fall. Midget (I don't know why I still call her that - she's 4" taller than I am!) is in her senior year of high school, and if all things go as planned, she'll graduate in May. She's planning on taking a few months to enjoy a pressure-free summer, then will be enlisting in the military. I'm so proud of my kids and proud of where they're going in life. They make life so much more interesting! Hubby, too, is doing great. This marks year 11 with his company and he loves it as much as he did at the beginning. It's challenging and stressful at times, but he's never been one to back down from a challenge. After all, he married me 15 years ago, right?

I'm gearing up for a new book release in February and cannot be more thrilled. Becoming an author was the best choice I've made, aside from my family. It's allowed me to meet so many people whom I've become close to, and I know there will be so many more joys to come. The feedback I've gotten on my books has been so encouraging and positive. I can't say enough about how great my readers are. I see hateful, negative reviews on so many other authors' pages, and it breaks my heart. I'm sure my day is coming, but until then, I feel so fortunate to have the readers I have.

I don't really have any great epiphanies to share with you today, and I know my blog posts have been further and farther between, but I wanted to catch y'all up on life at my house. I hope everyone's new year is healthy, prosperous and filled with love and good memories to be made.

My mother had three kids and married a man with three kids, so needless to say, I came from a big family. I also grew up on shows like The Brady Bunch and Eight is Enough so I always envisioned having lots of kids someday. The holidays were always fun and exciting, especially when my cousins, aunts, and uncles were included in the festivities.

Then once I grew up and had kids I realized that I am NOT a Brady or a Bradford. Quite frankly, kids make me kinda crazy, so I stopped at two. I would never have those crowded (but cozy) Christmases of my youth, but that was okay. I'd have my sanity. Right? (Shut up.)

Last summer, we were blessed with a third child (can an 18 year old be referred to as a child?) who unexpectedly joined our family after having been in foster care through most of her teens. Bethany rounded out our brood and has made a great addition to our family. Trust me when I say she brings enough fun, excitement, and yes, chaos to the house. Most of the time it's welcomed chaos. ;)

Today, she planned a friendsgiving celebration, inviting her boyfriend and numerous friends and coworkers. There were appetizers, relish trays, turkey with all the trimmings, pies (pies, and more pies), and lots of people.

This unexpected girl who joined our lives has given me a full house after all and I wouldn't want it any other way. I'm not a Brady or a Bradford, but I am a Samples and this is our world.

Happy Thanksgiving, all!

I sat down yesterday and began writing another book. I've had about a half-dozen ideas come to me in the last few months, but this one was inspired by a book my husband was cackling about a couple weeks ago. I looked at him and told him I found the opening paragraph to my next book. He looked at me like I was crazy, but since that's not a new thing for us, I just grinned and began typing in an empty Word doc. I read back to him what I'd written and he kinda gave me a blank stare and one of his "whatever works for you, honey" looks. God bless him.

Writing for me has been way tough for the last year. Between Lyme bacteria literally drilling into my brain, medication has taken quite a toll on my memory, as well. Disease has skull-fucked me into oblivion and I'm pissed about it. (Yeah, so much for that peace I talked about in the last blog, huh?) When I'm pissed, I become motivated. So yesterday, I sat down and wrote over 2,000 words in a new story. New characters, new story line, new everything. It was hard and it's probably crap and will be edited into something completely different from what I'm writing now, but I have more voices needing to be heard.

It's encouraging to know the characters are still there and even more encouraging that they want to tell their stories. But most encouragingly, I've been writing like a mofo. I'll take it!

I'm pretty sure I should have been a fall baby. I love this season. I love everything about it - the sights, the colors, the sound of whistles on a football field, the cooler temps, the smell of leaves burning, even the evenings that begin before supper time.


This year, as my physical limitations have kept me pretty grounded to home, I'm learning to become content with my own company. We did a lot of home renovation the last couple months, so I've been enjoying the new digs. It's amazing to me what a little color change and new energy can do to a space.
As I've been spending more time by myself, I've opened my mind and interests a little, exploring meditation and various pagan traditions. I have friends and family who dabble in alternative faiths and it has fascinated me to learn more about other people's practices and rituals. (Before anybody freaks out: no, I'm not worshiping Satan or praying to toast with the shadow of the Virgin Mary burned into it. Relax.) I've just been paying more attention to the elements around me - the moon, the tides, the stars and nature, in general. I've been paying homage to family and my ancestry as well. In doing this, I'm also trying to remove some of the clutter from my life - physically, spiritually, and emotionally. It's been wonderfully freeing for me.

While I do still have a ways to go with my Lyme treatment and subsequent testing for co-infections, I'm finding a lot of peace in letting go of the things that don't matter in the long run. I shredded stacks of old files, papers and notes I no longer needed. I've purged a lot of clothing, personal care products I admitted I'd been hoarding, and many other things that have been gumming up my life. 
I'm finding ways to bring calm and peace to a life that is anything but calm and peaceful. I'm learning that a lot of it has to do with choices. I can choose to be chaotic or I can choose to let things go. Don't get me wrong. Sometimes, you need to be involved and it can create chaos until all the parts fall into place, but I'm trying to do better about choosing peace.
As we head into the holiday season, I wish you peace and lots of wonderful memories with loved ones.

I posted this last summer after I was diagnosed, but I've added a few thoughts and decided to repost it here:

I was diagnosed with chronic Lyme disease in May 2014, though my doctors and I suspect I've had it for a decade or more. I don't remember a tick bite, nor did I have a specific bulls-eye rash or flu-like symptoms. It wasn't until I suffered significant memory loss, several episodes of Bells' Palsy, and years of pain that I even considered getting tested.

I spent my childhood running around in the yard and the pasture behind our house. We went fishing and camping every summer. And I don't remember our dogs and cats ever wearing flea & tick collars. We were a rural family and we sure weren't going to let some pesky bugs dictate our lives. As a kid, I remember hearing about something called Lyme disease, but I had no idea what it was or the effects it had on its victims. Even as a parent to my own kids, Lyme wasn't something I ever concerned myself with. If anybody got a tick, it was plucked away with a cotton ball soaked in nail polish remover and we went on with our lives.

How foolish we were.

My diagnosis took me by surprise, but at the same time, with all the research I'd done while waiting for my test results, I think I would've been more surprised if it hadn't come back positive. I had almost every sign of late-stage Lyme. In fact, I remember hoping the test would come back positive. Not because I wanted to have it, of course - who the hell would want to be this sick? - but because it would finally give a name to all the shit I'd been dealing with the last several years. 
Like most people with multiple nondescript symptoms, I just wanted an explanation. I was so sick of giving excuses that seemed like bullshit even to myself and I was the one who knew what I was going through. I blamed my brain fog on the anesthesia from my hysterectomy in 2012. My pain was, of course, from sleeping wrong and not seeing my chiropractor as often as he'd suggested. The Bells' Palsy and skin rashes were an allergic reaction to something, I'd said. My deepening depression, growing anxiety and increasingly common mood swings had to be because of stress. Sleeplessness, exhaustion and weird sleep patterns could be blamed on my anxiety and depression. I mean, literally everything could be explained away by something else. But there was only one single thing that would encompass them all and it would finally have a name.

Until my diagnosis, I sucked it up and dealt with life as it came at me. After all, if it didn't have a name, how could I not just deal with shit? I had no excuse, no reason, no explanation. Hell, if I'd known I had Lyme disease three years ago, I could've saved myself thousands of dollars in therapy where I tried to figure out why I felt so fucked up all the time. I still tend to think I'm stronger than I am, more motivated than I feel, more capable than not, and as a result, I get pissed at myself because I end up overdoing things.
Upon diagnosis by my primary care doctor, I spent a month on doxycycline which made me extremely physically sick a few times. Then, when the doxy didn't work, I was sent to an infectious disease specialist who put in a PICC line for IV meds that totally hosed my 40th birthday month. I did feel better for a few weeks after those meds, but by fall, I was miserable again. At that point, my doctor didn't know what else to do. I succumbed to the disease and accepted that it would just be something I'd always have to deal with.

Fortunately, a friend of mine suggested contacting the ILADS.org website to find a Lyme-literate medical doctor. I had no idea what that meant, but as I explored the website (as well as a couple others), I discovered that there are two "schools of Lyme treatment." The first is what most doctors follow. It's set in place by the CDC and it does not involve anything called "chronic Lyme disease." It doesn't exist, according to them. The second school of Lyme is a precedent-setting group who is willing to risk career and reputation to treat what they know is real. LLMDs are regular doctors (general practitioners, OB/GYN, infectious disease, or internal medicine doctors, etc.) who also treat Lyme disease and all its co-infections. They often have to challenge medical labs, insurance companies and other doctors and specialists to do so. There have been times when these doctors have lost their licenses for treating patients like me. There have been lawsuits and medical board hearings more times than not, and the results rarely go favorably. To find a good LLMD is a rarity. In the entire state of Iowa, there are only three doctors (that I'm aware of). I'm very fortunate to have found mine.

Impatience is another very real circumstance. My Lyme doctor told me at my very first visit, "this is not going to go away overnight." I had no idea how right she was. The most frustrating part is feeling like I've made progress and then slipping backward. For every five steps I take, I might get to keep one of them. While not every single day is a battle, the majority of them are. Being in my forties, but feeling like I'm 80 is not fun. I've learned to measure my days by the degree of severity of the symptoms, not whether or not I am experiencing any. Every day, there's pain. Every day, there's brain fog. Every day, there's something I forget. Every day, there's neuropathy. Every day. Some days they're at a one, some days they're a nine. They're never a ten, though because I know there's always room for them to be worse. I've never rated my symptoms at a ten. I hope I never have to.

Mostly, I just miss who I used to be. I was fun-loving, carefree, spontaneous and happy. Now, I have to remind myself to be some of those things, and I am slowly coming to terms with the fact that I will probably never be some of them, too. Spontaneity is rarer for me because I have to stock-pile my energy. Happy is a choice, I'm learning, but I do try to find happy in every day - whether it be something grand or something minute. I still love having fun, but carefree is something I'll never be again.  That part sucks.


This will always be on my mind. Even if I get to the point of being symptom-free, it will always be in the back of my mind like a stranger lurking in a dark alley. My health was something I used to take for granted, but the bottom line is that I will always be sick. There's no cure for chronic lyme disease (only remission), no survival rates, no pink ribbon campaigns and universal sisterhoods like there are with cancer. Thousands of people have it, but nobody talks about it. That's hard. Most days I feel very alone in this. Those are the days when I stay in bed and lose myself in a book (or at least try to - my concentration has been a little sketchy) or Netflix binge. Other days, I pretend I don't hurt just so I can feel normal...even if it's bullshit.


Why?

Because I know what people think. Hell, if half the medical community doesn't recognize chronic lyme disease as a real thing, what hope do I have with friends and family who don't have the answers? People who don't know anything about Lyme don't understand that I hurt almost all the time. Or that going to the grocery store or making dinner for my family can put me in bed for a day and a half. Or that traveling can take me out for a week straight. They don't understand that extra stimulation such as a crying baby or a fight between family members makes me want to beat my head against a wall. They think me being asleep at 2 in the afternoon is laziness, or that being awake at 3am is insomnia. They don't understand how painful it is for me to sit at a ball game without moving for two hours. And that even just listening to them vent about work or their kids makes me want to cry because the burden is too great for me to carry. As time has gone on, more friends have learned about how this disease affects me, but making new friends isn't really happening; it takes too much effort to explain this all to them.


I feel like I should be spending my day apologizing to people around me because I'm sick. They have to hear me scream when I'm angry and cry when I get frustrated. They pick up the slack when I don't have the energy to both make dinner and clean up afterward. They work hard because I can't. Most days I feel like a complete burden. I'm working through that guilt, but it's not gone yet. Mostly, though, I just miss me.

I have hope that even if my physical abilities don't return to what they were that my mental capacities do. I'm smart. I'm funny. I'm ridiculously talented with words. But I'm also forgetful, crabby and tired a lot. I'm optimistic and I try and keep my hopes up, but at the same time, I have to be realistic because I don't want to set up false expectations for myself. Eighteen months into this and I'm still working on the balance there.

Most importantly, I try and remember that even those four steps may slip away, I am still gaining ground. Some days I feel okay. I'm motivated and energetic. I do my hair, throw on some make-up and venture out for a short while. It usually tires me out, but I refuse to let this disease dictate my life anymore. It's spent too much time doing that already. I just take things day by day, breath by breath.

 That's Lyme life.

 This was after we discovered the fish tank had been leaking down the drywall.


Everybody's on board for tearing up the carpet. It's the easiest part!
  Boo set to removing the staples that held the padding down while The Boyfriend started yanking up all the tack strips around the perimeter of the room. Both kids worked harder than I had all day.

   Shortly after removing the carpet, we realized we also had a plumbing leak, which had damaged the subflooring. So instead of just having the simple task of laying flooring, we also now have to figure out how to patch the drywall and call a plumber to fix and find the leak in the wall.

It was somewhere around this point that I went from "I can totally handle this" to "Oh my God, what have I gotten myself into? I just wanted a new bed!" Thankfully, we're in a place where we can afford the fixes (watching enough house-flipping shows on HGTV has taught me, if you don't have the budget for things that can go wrong, don't tackle the project in the first place), provided they're not too big. At this stage of the game, they're still manageable.

Yesterday, Hubby and I hit the ReStore shop, Walmart, Lowe's and Menards to pick up the things we need to make the repairs and do the changes we have taken on.  Hauling the usual Walmart purchases (things like cat litter, shampoo & conditioner, and paper towels), four sets of mini-blinds, five boxes of flooring, three  bags of drywall repair stuff, and lamenting about the bait-and-switch faucet we had to buy, everything finally made it in the house by 7pm. Thankfully, a friend of ours was here checking out the water damaged floor, so he helped carry everything in. He also stuck around and helped Nate disassemble our old bed and move it to the office so the new bed can be delivered tomorrow. I ran out of energy somewhere around 10pm. Sleep finally came around 3am after I set in motion an action plan for the rest of these fixes and updates.
Today, though I was tired and in some pain from all the running I did yesterday, I had a lot on my to-do list. Unfortunately, I had a few setbacks. the light bulbs I bought for my bathroom vanity were too big, the blinds for the living room were too narrow, the filters for the furnace were the wrong size, as were the sheets for the new bed. And, because I couldn't figure out this fancy ladder we borrowed from the neighbor, I couldn't reach the peak of the ceiling to scrub the trim. I finally gave up about 2:00, grabbed a Coke, and plopped my ass in front of the TV to watch Sex and the City reruns until my feelings of inferiority subsided.
Eventually, I got back up, put on my big girl panties, and sucked it up. I spent the afternoon patching all the nail and thumbtack holes in office and bedroom, then I got the new new plantation blinds hung in office (including one botched attempt at hanging a support piece that blew out my elbow early in the game). I finished that just in time for the plumbers to show up to give me estimates for the leak in the wall. I hired one and am looking forward to him fixing it on Sunday (without charging me overtime for it being a weekend - go me!). 
 
After that, I took down the curtain rod in the bedroom, patched those holes and took the Roman shade down too so I can paint around it without dripping on the shade (which I have always loved more than any other window covering). Once that was done, I emptied our nightstands and cleaned them so I can sand them and stain them tomorrow (including removing all the metalwork to be spray-painted). Then I moved all the dressers out from the wall so I could get all the dust bunnies who've taken up residence since we moved in (the last time I cleaned the cobwebs from the corners of the ceiling). I also cleaned the ceiling fan before vacuuming. I was even feeling adventurous enough to wash windows and the trim around them (inside and out, including the gunk in the window tracks). 
I hit a wall of pain and exhaustion about 10pm and rested for a while with some ice on my elbow. Hubby brought me some dinner home and I inhaled that, talked to the girls who were finally home and done with homework. When everybody went to bed, I tackled the bedroom again. 
Almost all our furniture is hand-me-downs or second-hand things we've picked up along the way. This includes a 90's style black lacquer dresser with gold trim. It's functional and in good shape, but it's ugly. Ohhhhhhh, so very ugly. So tonight, I decided to take the outdated mirror off the top, remove all the gold trim, and take off the handles so I can paint those to match the nightstands. I'll leave the dresser black, but the other dresser (which was bought in 1983 by my parents) needs to be painted so it matches the first one. Oh, did I mention in all that I managed to wash and dry 3 loads of laundry?

There's still SO much to do before the bedroom is inhabitable again, today was a success in my book. 
Tomorrow, I tackle the drywall repair in the office and master bath, I will sand the nightstands and dresser, and pick up the paint, a few supplies for that, and the lumber and hardware to make the new headboard. I have to stop at Walmart and exchange the stuff I bought in the wrong size, too. Oh...and I have a doctor's appointment at noon, I have to pick Bethany up from school at 1:45, come home and pick Shelby up after she gets out of school, drop her off downtown at 4:30 and be home by 6pm so I am here when they come to deliver the new bed. I was hoping I would get the bedroom painted tomorrow night, but I think it's gonna have to wait.
For those wondering what crawled up my ass with this Fixer-Upper-Home-Reno-What-the-Hell-do-I-think-I'm-doing thing --- it all started with a bed.
Did I take on too much? Yes.
Is this typical of me? Yes.
Will it all get done? Yes.
Will I spend a month bedridden when all is said and done? Yes.
So why am I doing it? Well, because if I'm going to spend a month in bed, I want it to be the prettiest little place of retreat I've ever seen. It's been the last thing in the house to get updated and it's long overdue. But hey...if you feel like sending me chocolate and hot apple cider, who am I to stop you? *hint hint*

Most people, when they need a new bed, they just go out and buy a new bed. The process is done once the bed is delivered and setup.
That's not us.
No, see. When we decide to get a new bed, it winds up being a total renovation of half the rooms in our house. How does this happen? Let me walk you through the process. I'll give you a hint: it starts with Pinterest.
Buy new mattress and box springs. Opt to go from the current Queen size to a King so you have more room in bed. (This? This is where the trouble began.)Decide to move current bed to office, including the beautiful head/footboard you just bought a year ago.Move office bed to the girls' room to replace the mattress on the floor that one of them has been sleeping on for almost a year.Decide that since the office is sans bed and it's mostly empty, you should paint it as you've talked about doing for ten years when you moved in to the house.Realize that your bedroom with its brand new bed on the way also needs a fresh coat of paint. Again, because you've talked about it for ten years and it's high time you get it done.Since you're painting the bedroom, you should probably buy a new bed so the fresh walls don't get dirty without a headboard behind it."Man, king-sized beds are expensive! Let's build a headboard instead!" Begin pricing building materials and realize that you're saving a small fortune by making it yourself."You know, if we're not spending all that money on a bed, we can put the new flooring in the office. I mean, it'll be empty. We might as well." You know, because you've been talking about yanking up that gross, dingy carpet for years."If we're buying the flooring for the office, we probably should do the bedroom hallway. Oh, and we should also redo the bathroom so it matches the rest of the floors." By the way, this endeavor includes the kitchen, laundry room and master bath. "Even if we don't have the energy to do it all at once, at least we'll have the flooring so we can tackle it when we are able to and won't have to track down matching flooring.""Awesome! Let's get started!" Start moving things in office. Realize the fish tank has ruined part of the wall because the filter spilled over the back of the tank.Spend the afternoon peeling wet drywall and make a note to look up "patching torn drywall" on YouTube later.Begin tearing up carpet and padding in office and hallway.Realize there is a plumbing leak in the wall between the office and bathroom that has ruined part of the subfloor.Shit. "Well, so much for getting all the flooring at once. We've got to throw some money at this repair now. Guess we'll get enough flooring to just do the office, hallway, and bathroom." Note to self: save the packaging and purchase information so we can match the rest of the flooring later.Let the teenagers tear up the carpet tack strips and staples from the padding while you look up cost of new plumbing parts, drywall spackle, and subfloor pieces. Be grateful the teenagers are powerhouse workhorses who aren't afraid of hard work. Remember to feed said workhorses later.Have a meltdown.Curse the bastards on Pinterest.Be grateful the bastards on Pinterest posted links to fix the stuff that needs to be fixed. Dry your eyes and realize this is TOTALLY doable and could have been a LOT worse.Realize that the wall repair you've been intending to do in the master bathroom can be done now that you know how to patch the torn drywall. Go crazy chipping away the warped paint from the water damage in said bathroom. Get excited that yes, your house is total disaster, but hey, you get a new bed delivered Friday and you're gonna sleep like a baby...eventually.

The previous blog has been removed by the blog owner to protect Roxanne and her family, as well as to ensure that her legal case against Joe Pata is not compromised in any way.

Permission is NOT granted to use this photo of the victim for any reason.

For those who are interested, a fundraiser has been established to help Roxanne with moving into a new home and purchasing a dependable car. Any remaining funds will be applied toward helping her children work through the tragedy that has struck their lives. Please go here to donate and help spread the word. YouCaring: Roxi's Restart

Thank you for your concern and interest regarding this situation, for the donations, prayers, kind thoughts and words, but mostly for respecting her privacy at this time.