I Hope

Yesterday I went to Hattiesburg to do comedy in front of a crowd of maybe a dozen people. It was in a restaurant and the food smelled amazing, but I didn't order anything. In truth, I have no idea how much money I even have, but I know its not enough. I never know how or when I would ever pay someone back for a kindness if someone asks if I wanted anything, so I always decline, even though i appreciate the offer.

I had tuna casserole earlier that I made enough of for lunch and dinner - hoping it would hold me over. It did not. "One day, this will all have been worth it." I hope.

Today, I'm not as prepared. I had sandwiches I was going to eat for dinner, but I ate them for lunch. I guess dinner is the oatmeal I saved myself and I eat in the break room long after I'm supposed to go home. I'm sure I'll be starving on the way home.

Gas has been inexpensive lately, though I'm worried about jinxing that by typing it out. I still can't chance driving all the way to Gulfport to vote and then driving back for another show.

I hang out in Ocean Springs, wondering what to do. My uncle appreciates my visits, but it's a far enough drive through some questionably maintained roads that I fear for my tires' integrity. I just did a withdrawal from my retirement fund to buy shoes, I can't do another one so soon for car repairs. My daughter is closer, but with my ex's boyfriend home, it just feels intrusive and uncomfortable even though we like one another.

Maybe I should sleep? My apnia surely won't kill me at this age without my mask. I could use the extra hours.

I'm tired. I'm hungry. I'm lonely. I'm poor. "One day this will all be worth it." I hope.

Last night I had a restless night. Fat guy wearing a seatbelt that barely stretched across my barrel chest - not a recipe for a restful car ride. I passed out at 12:30 AM to wake up at 6:00 to get ready for work, but only after eating the Doritos my girl didn't eat. I hate Doritos, but I can't afford my own snacks and by the time she came back they'd be stale. A little sirracha helped them out though.

Now I'm tired and have a show at 10. New material tonight, so that's always exciting and nerve wracking. I had to take my blood pressure meds I'm running out of to ensure I didn't stroke out from the stress. I don't always take it anymore since I can't afford a doctor to refill the prescription.

Then I'll drive home. I'll get four or five more hours sleep and do it again tomorrow. A pizza place is the venue tomorrow. I'll be starved because I won't have time to cook tonight or in the morning before work. I'll just have to wait till I get home to cook. "One day this will all have been worth it."

I hope.

Life's Katrina's - The Recovery

Over the last few months I have been overwhelmingly negative on these blog posts.


There has been nothing but constant death, hardship, unrequited love, and financial ruin.


My life hasn't been entirely doom and gloom though as there have been some miraculous things happening.


I've always been thisclose to having something of mine produced, whether it's a TV pilot, a screenplay, or a premise but finally after all these years it seems that it is really happening this time.


My friend and writing partner sent me a scrip with five pages of dialogue and a premise and I ran with it. What was completed was described to me as one of the funniest things a certain professional actor had ever read. Now we have a cast, a director, and a bunch of other things you need to make a movie in waiting. I just hope this is the thing that eventually launches a career I enjoy.


My podcast had been doing really well and now I get to hang out with three of my favorite people at least once a week.


My comedy is doing a lot better than I ever imagined, honestly. I'm consistently named one of the funnier people there and I've been asked on more than one occasion to go to other venues other than the one I normally perform at.


Finally, being a father really is the greatest thing anyone could ever ask for. My little girl is my world and I really couldn't imagine my life having as much sunshine in it without her.

Life's Katrina's Part 5: Closer to Death

I don't remember how old I was when I got cellulitis for the first time, but I remember that I worked at Sicily's.


I was working the oven at the time and I began feeling like I had the flu or something. I started limping and my shoe was getting progressively tighter as time went on.


I checked myself out by rolling up my pants leg and I was greeted with a swollen pink lower leg. It hurt when it was touched and was warm. Despite my protests, my manager told me to go home. I went to the doctor the next day, got antibiotics, and felt better in a week.


Cellulitis is an infection that starts in your skin. It is caused by bacteria entering your body and attacking your weakened cells due to number of things. In my case, my veins are so wide that my circulation struggles when it hits my legs, it pools up, and BAM - infection.


This would be something I became very familiar with.


It was many years later that I would get it again. At the time, I had ballooned up to almost 600 lbs - a byproduct of rejection and heartache. Less than a year before, Hurricane Katrina had decimated most of the coast and I had a terrible infection in my right hand.


I had grown so large that my knee had given out on me while I was trying to walk around a fitness trail and had to crawl to my car. Surgery repaired me, but a few months later I had the grand misfortune of getting cellulitis so severe that it put me in the hospital. I spent several weeks in the hospital getting IVs of medication and over the next few months, I would get cellulitis a couple more times.


I had just started dating my future ex wife when I had one of the worst - if not THE worst outbreak of cellulitis I ever had.


It was the middle of the night that I had gotten it - I know this because I woke up to go to the bathroom, but I wasn't thinking right. I stood and the pain was so excruciating I had to prop myself up with the wall on my way to and from it. Describing the pain is difficult. Imagine what it feels like when you burn yourself on the stove. Now imagine your entire lower leg feeling that way. Now throw in a severe case of the flu.


Now you're getting the idea.


Later that same night, I only barely remember wandering in the living room in my underwear looking for my keys so I could go to work with my bewildered brother's friends trying to understand why this was happening.


I was lead back to the bedroom and I slept - waking from time to time in pain. My girlfriend called me up and she knew immediately that there was something not right. She kept me talking on the phone until she showed up to take me to the hospital. I really don't remember anything after she picked me up, but I know I woke up in a hospital room. If Boo hadn't gotten me to the hospital that day, I would likely have passed away in my bed.


This was the worst time I had ever gotten cellulitis, but there have been times that it had been really close to killing me.


I used to get it maybe once every few months and then I would just go to the doctor, get some antibiotics and that would be that. I would only go to the hospital in one of those emergency situations because it was more expensive.


Well, then my insurance changed. Like anything, they were pulling more per month for the premiums, but my deductible was a lot higher too.


The last time I went to my doctor about my issues he sent me to a specialist to look to my veins for answers. I went in and the doctor did an ultrasound of my legs and told me that he couldn't figure them out so he wanted me to wear compression stockings until my legs were less swollen. In the mean time, they would prevent as many cellulitis attacks.


The issue that I ran into is that the doctor visit cost me almost $300. The specialist wanted another $300. The stockings were almost $100 and this is on top of all of the hospital debt I was accumulating in the thousands of dollars once my insurance changed. Luckily a good friend of mine was able to help with the cost of the stockings.


During this time frame I was responsible for the final expenses of my mother and mother-in-law and things had gotten terrifyingly tight.


One day I came home to a summons on my apartment door. I was being sued for one of my doctor bills and I freaked out. I literally had no money to give and I called up the collection agency who had sued me and worked out a payment plan. It was $100 a month that I honestly did not have, but I supposed I didn't have a choice.


Two months later, my father had passed away.


I was tapped out. I was terrified. I really didn't know what I could do because I had just spent my tax return (like a dumb ass) and I still had all of this debt that I had accumulated with final expenses, medical, car issues, and the stupid stuff I got into as a young adult.


I really don't know who suggested that I start a GoFundMe account, but I decided that it might be for the best because we really didn't have anywhere else to turn. We owed every loan company in the south and being the only responsible Phelps boy, I had to take on this responsibility as well.


I wish you could understand the jubilation that I felt when we raised the money to give my dad a proper send off in less than a day. I have so many people out there who love me and my dad had so many people who loved and respected him. I put the remaining amount in savings and planned on saving just a little bit more to get my parents the urns that they deserve instead of the plain black box that you receive their remains in at the funeral home.


It was about a month after my dad had passed and I knew I didn't have much money left in my checking account. I went to check my account to see if I had enough to get me a soda in the break room and I was shocked to see that not only was it empty but so was all of the money in my savings account.


My account was garnished, which frankly I had no idea was even a possibility. I had missed a payment to the collection agency in the midst of trying to get my dad's final expenses in line ad before I was able to get in contact with them, they took the totally legal step of filing a court order to pull as much money as they could from my account hoping to pay off my debt. It didn't but it certainly crippled me in  away that is just disgusting. If I could afford to pay the debt off, I would have and now they had TAKEN the money I was planning on spending on my parents.


Currently, the remains are still in those black boxes until I can pay off the debt I have found myself in which, if you're paying attention, is a goal that keeps being pushed back due to my constant illness.


I try to not go to the doctor now so I don't keep getting these bills I can't pay. As I type this, I still have the case of cellulitis I went to the hospital for over a week ago. I was in "ok, this is serious enough to possibly kill me this time" mode while at work and I didn't go to the hospital till a week later when I wasn't getting any better and I've depleted the meds that were prescribed. I requested a refill in case this were to happen and the doctor told me that he couldn't and I should just go to my doctor. I don't have the $300 I need to do that. I don't have the however much I have to pay to go to Urgent Care.


I don't have anything. I'm bled dry and there are really good odds that I'll be dead soon.

Life's Katrinas Part 4 - Riding Into the Sunset

I was in my early 20's before the feeling came over me that my dad was just a guy.






He was doing everything in his power to make sure that there was food in our bellies and a roof over our head and the gravity of it all never hit me until my parents decided to refinance our house and he worked like crazy to try to fix everything the adjuster said to fix before the bank would do so.




I could only aspire to my father's drive. He used to hold three jobs at one time - he was an electrician at the ship yard, a pizza delivery guy, and a volunteer at the fire department. On top of that, he was active on the ball field when my brothers and myself played, he fixed lawnmowers, and cars.


I'm so flipping lazy compared to my dad.






One day when playing in an exhibition game of "Cabbage Ball" or whatever that was, he started complaining of pain and weakness and collapsed. I was a teenager at the time and I didn't realize what was going on until I saw him writhing in pain in the back seat of our van.




He was having what would be the first of many heart attacks.






Over the years, his body may have been weakening, but he literally refused to let it stop him. This was part of his downfall.






When my mom passed away, my dad became more subdued and got to the point where he often had to use a walker to assist him. He was a doting grandfather and always wanted to spend time with my little girl. The last really good day he had was spent pushing her around on his walker as we  looked at vintage cars. My little girl loved her paw-paw after many years of being afraid of him.






Things were always being asked of him and he finally wore himself out enough to the point that he continued helping people with rides, car work, and whatever was asked of him. He was always in and out of the hospital and I would sometimes skip out of work so I could go visit him. He was always weak, but smiling and joking. He was always in good spirits.






I was called and told that my dad was in the hospital again, the previous time being less than three months prior. I couldn't leave work early, so I walked over when I got off and the doctor told me that they had to do a procedure and I could not see him until the morning, but he seemed to have pneumonia and my dad was expected to recover.




I was getting ready for bed when I received a phone call from an 819 number. I immediately recognized it as the hospital. My dad's nurse was calling to tell me that my father's condition had worsened and that I needed to gather whoever I could and get to the hospital.




I sped to Ocean Springs from Gulfport, calling everyone who would want to know and picked my brother up on the way. When we got there we were told that they did not expect him to survive this hospitalization. He was stable, so we could go home.




Now this is the part of the story where I must apologize because I am terrible at time frames. This entire period is kind of a blur for me to begin with.




Since he was right next door from where I worked, I would walk over to visit. I would see a sight that is, frankly too familiar. He was unconscious. There was a tube breathing for him, feeding him, and letting him urinate. He was unresponsive as I talked to him and each time I met with the Dr. he would tell me that things were not good. He was under constant watch by the nurses who were visibly affected by our love as we talked to him.




We all knew that he would soon leave us, but we just did not want to believe it. I hadn't even spoken to him in days, as it was raining terribly the day we were supposed to meet in the park so he could visit with my little girl.




One day I walked to the hospital and was told that he will likely pass away in the night. I walked back to work, told the acting manager that I needed some time and cried in the bathroom.


It was so much to handle. First I lost my mother, then my mother in law, and now I would truly be an orphan all within a few years.




Surprisingly, my dad had taken a turn for the better. He didn't pass away that night and in fact he was awake. My visit with him was a somber one for the most part. He couldn't talk since the tubes were still in his mouth, but he was able to shake his head and nod. I didn't stay long that first day so he could rest. He was alive!






After a while, they had my dad on dialysis to try to get his kidneys functioning again and they put him in a normal room. My daughter was able to come and visit, playing with her paw paw and dancing. We were able to spend so much time together when I could.




My dad was doing so well that they thought he might be out in a few days. My Uncle was by my father's side as much as he could be along with my other uncle from out of town as well as our extended family. Having never told my Uncle about how my beliefs had changed over the years, he asked me if I felt confused - a reference to how much of a miracle this all was. To be completely honest, I wasn't. But I still didn't answer because I didn't think it would serve much of a purpose.




I had to surrender our dog during this time. He was nipping at my daughter, attacking our cat, and destroyed my apartment - things I'll go in length about in a different blog. I was a mess because I really didn't want to do it and no one I knew could take him in. As I was leaving, I received a call from my Uncle explaining that the dialysis wasn't working and he would need dialysis to live; however, if he continued to get dialysis his heart would go out. In either scenario, my dad was going to pass away.






My Uncle had offered to hospice my father until he passed away and I felt that it would be appropriate. He made the proper arrangements and that Saturday morning he would take him home.


I visited my father that evening and spoke to him for what would be the last time. There was a huge elephant in the room considering that we all knew my father was not long for this world.  I gave him a big hug and kiss. Told him I loved him and thanked him.




We were planning on continuing with our lives past this until the day came. My daughter was invited to a friend of mine daughter's birthday party at a pool. We woke up early and I put my baby girl in her bathing suit and packed a little bag with clothes and dressed for swimming when my Uncle calls me to tell me that just moments earlier, my father had passed away.




I called around to tell as many people as I could as I threw clothes over the baby's bathing suit and I rushed to the hospital. God only knows why I was in such a hurry since I was basically going to see a body... It is weird to think about it.


I arrived and as soon as I got off the elevator, I was right back in that unusual mode where everyone around you knows you need support. Hugs, handshakes and backrubs from family, friends, nurses - all as I tried not to fall to pieces.


I went into the room and he looked like he was sleeping peacefully for the first time in years and without the snoring. I don't recall what I said or if I cried and we all went to my Uncle's house to try and figure things out.


This will bring us to the next part.

Dream Journal

Dream journal - weirdly I can't remember my dreams, but last night I remembered two.

1. I was on a cruise with a friend of mine and my brother. I have no idea how we afforded it, but we were so close to glaciers and gorgeous scenery. Then we went to the UK where we went to Thorpe Park and I tried to contact a friend who lives in the area without success. I woke up as we were on our way back to the ship. It was amazing.

2. I was at work when I had my heart broken. All of my stress, my illness, my inability to pay for a doctor, and basically everything else built in me and I snapped - screaming at the top of my lungs. Friends of mine came over and tried to calm me down and they were mostly successful. Sobbing, I was in the midst of a mental breakdown when the person who broke my heart came in and I fried to compose myself and left. I walked to my Uncle's who was living at an intersection where a huge commotion was happening. My Uncle calmed me down and walked me to the intersection. Across from him, a funeral home. On either side was a gathering place for Wu-Tang fans and a gathering place for Juggalos.

It was bizarre.

Life's Katrinas Part 3 - Apart

Our relationship was never better.



My wife, Boo and myself had never been closer than we were a few months after her mother passed away. A tragedy that affected the both of us in ways we never imagined, we had finally gotten to a place where we were happy.



Kind of.



The thing is, about two years prior we kind of figured out that we had drifted apart as a couple; however, we were trying to make it work. When our mothers passed away, it acted as a rally between us. It was a test. We needed each other in those times and we answered the call with love.

2014 would be our year.



Months into the new year, we ended up with a realization - we loved each other very much; however, neither of us felt that what we wanted in life was compatible with what the other wanted. We continued to drift apart, sure but it was unusual because we still wanted to hang out and be a part of the other's life. We were becoming platonic best friends.



Confessing our feelings about one another in a long heartfelt talk we knew we needed to divorce. We just couldn't fix what was wrong despite the three years of work trying to fix the problem. Turns out, there was no problem - more of a misinterpretation of feelings.

Not to be mistaken, we were rather upset about this development in our lives, but even though we took a third shot at fixing it briefly - it was over. It was definately over.



2014 was essentially a year of rebuilding.



Boo and I were now separated.



Living apart has helped with the transition and while she has found herself a great guy who she is now dating, my experiment in dating was...shall we say outstandingly unsuccessful and has pretty much scared me from the whole idea of dating for quite some time. Especially dating people I don't know first.



Besides, I wasn't ready.


As time has passed, I have been growing more and more depressed. I have been having these wonderful professional highs and I'm, frankly, more popular than ever. There is just a melancholy that falls over me when I get off of work.


Ever since my daughter started school there has been days  I'll just sit in my desk when I clock out. Once, my friend asked as he walked out the door why I hadn't left and I didn't tell him the truth. I had no place I really wanted to be.


I would walk into my apartment, sit everything down and try not to worry about the terrible smell the dog we had left in the carpet. The cat that belonged to Boo was basically mine now, she feeling that I needed a companion - and rightfully so. I just wish I had a companion that wasn't so...scratchy.


I started trying to meet someone online, but it has mostly only been good for stand up material. Most of the women who have a lot in common with me won't respond and when they do they are generally terrible at holding conversations.


I had been talking with a lot of women I'm attracted who are friends of mine, but the only ones who flirt are in relationships. I'm certain they will lose interest once they are single. That seems to happen a lot.


I met a woman on one of the apps I had who had a lot in common with me, was supper sweet, attractive, and was SUPER into me but I have a horrible habit of knowing how and why we would break up eventually. I could see many happy years, honestly but eventually one of us would get tired of the other if our relationship had progressed. I could feel it.


This doesn't even go into the fact that I harbor a deep love for someone who knows how I feel for her. While we are happy to be best friends, I can't help but fall for her all over again every I see her. I SWEAR there are times that I'll be an idiot and think that she had fallen for me because of some little thing until eventually she told me that I needed to "stop thinking." I was and still am devastated, but that's life.


I guess I'm still not ready.

Life's Katrinas Part 2 - Take Care

My mother in law had been watching our sweet Savannah since she was born and lived with us so we would have mutual help with life as well as our expenses. She was an amazing woman and became one of my best friends and a surrogate mother since mine had passed.

A year had nearly passed when my wife, Boo and myself decided to take my mother in law with us to our yearly trip to Disney World. We all felt like it was needed - I had recently lost my mother, my wife had work issues that were so morbidly awful I won't go into them, and my mother in law and never been.



Disney World is my way of decompressing. It truly seems like the only place I can go and all of my cares seem to melt away. Not surprisingly, my mother in law had a blast and was able to do so many things that she never thought she would ever be able to. The trip was fantastic and I'm glad that I was able to share with her my favorite place in the world.



A few months later on a sunny summer day, my mother in law began feeling ill while filling up Savannah's little swimming pool. She went to rest as this wasn't something too entirely strange as she was prone to suddenly feeling bad, but we all thought nothing of it.



Again, my recollection of time frames is very poor, but either later that night or the next day Boo I was awakened by my wife needing to get her mom to the car. She was going to go to the hospital to see why she wasn't feeling right. Knowing how strong her mother was, I knew this had to be serious. While waiting for Boo to get the rolling chair (I think thats what she was doing - it was a hectic moment in time), her mother - with obvious fear on her face looked me in the eye. "Take care of Barbara."



Tears started streaming down her face and I'll never forget that moment. I reassured her that everything would be fine, but I would. Shortly thereafter Boo arrived with the chair and we took her to the car, physically put her in it and she drove off. I would never see my mother in law again.

Within a year's time I lost two mothers and I took it hard. It was even more difficult in that I wasn't sure if my level of mourning was appropriate. I learned not to care. She was my friend and forget you if you think I shouldn't grieve.



Again, we had to take out loans to pay for the final expenses. This time it was a loan that we really couldn't afford, but what else were we to do?



Boo leaned on me for support and I was here for her and vice versa.



Savannah misses her maw maw, of course. She will see her picture from time to time and tell us how she loves her even to this day. She made me bawl when she saw her picture the other day and asked me where she was. "She's an angel now, hon."



"She's an angel?"



"Yes. She will always be here with us."



"OK."

Life's Katrinas: Part 1 - The Woman in the Red Top

NOTE: This space used to be for the now-defunct podcast postings of The Broke Nerdcast and The Dark Quarter. If you were following this space for that content, Jay and I have a different project that you can find at www.pcpradio.com for the same type of content. What follows will be the personal thoughts I have about recent events in my life. Thank you.

2015 is my year.

This is the mindset that I went into the year with. It had to be.

Almost four years ago my wife and I sat in our car in the parking lot of a movie theater and had the discussion we knew we needed to have. We love each other dearly, but it was clear that we were following different paths and we were just now able to admit it.

We tried to make it work for the sake of our young daughter and we were mostly successful that first few months in proving that we were, sadly not the best of couples - yet the best of friends. It was a brutal realization to meet, but a necessary one.

Then I get a call that my mother had been put in the ICU.

I am terrible with time frames, but it felt like my mother was in that hospital for eternity and I never really ever found out exactly why she was there to begin with. This had happened once before and I was confident that she would be fine, but this time we were told that she wouldn't survive without the machines and the loving woman that we knew would not come back to us if she did as she lost too much oxygen to her brain.

Upon hearing this news, you could tell that my father was lost. He was losing his best friend, the love of his life, and then some. With a brave face he let us know that he had faith that my mother would be taken care of by the Lord and agreed to take her off of the ventilator.

We were all grieving in our own ways and we spent a day remembering and reflecting on our memories of her. I cried a lot.

We were all sitting at an area near the hospital when I was a woman in a red top with graying dark hair in a motorized scooter coming from the hospital toward us. She looked and moved just like my mother and I was astonished. She didn't come all the way to where we were, but she passed my wife who was taking a phone call near a pathway leading to shops and restaurants. I stood and walked toward her as she disappeared around the corner and she was gone. Not even a tire track in the dirt remained and no sound of the motor.

I walked back to the tables and asked my cousin's husband - who was also facing that way when it happened to speak to me in private so as to not seem crazy in front of everyone. I asked if he saw something out of the ordinary just before I walked away and he told me that he saw my mom. He didn't say anything though and I told him not to.

Years later, my wife would tell me that she saw my mother up close when this happened and she vanished into the alley on that same day and didn't want to sound crazy..

The next day our family met and we surrounded my mother and said our goodbyes. She faded away from us while my dad held her hand. I don't remember what it was, but he said something that made me lose my composure and I had to leave.

She passed away and it never stopped hurting.

My wife and aunt handled most of the final arrangements for my mother. Being the oldest, I knew it was my responsibility to handle the financial burden as my family has never really had money. I am no exception to this, but I made an ok living. I had to take out a loan to pay for the expenses, but I was able to take care of them and that was the most important thing. The money people gave me to help was appreciated and went right to the loan.

Despite the fact that we still knew that we were drifting apart from one another, my wife and I rekindled our friendship. I was able to lean on her in my time of need. She was there for me and thank GOD because I needed her.