1.) a working stage performer – (triple threat, thank you. = Actress/Singer/Dancer) with 34 plays and musicals to my name. I had done two the last year in between my airborne work.

2.) a voice-over actress:

3.) a Los Angeles Radio Personality and airborne reporter (as you know.) You probably didn’t know that two months before my "accident" I won two "Golden Mike" Broadcasting Awards for my statewide and national coverage of a late summer Jewish School Shooting story. I won another company wide "Best Airborne Reporter" award from Shadow Broadcast / Westwood One.

4.) a freelance singer. In 1999 I sang all over the place, though not hooked with a band. I sang at weddings, anniversaries, etc…. a few different bands knew my styles and called me with gigs when available. I sang pop, show, R&B as well as traditional Native, but my specialty was Jazz and Blues Standards – also known as cabaret or torch singing. A regular chanteuse, that was me.

5.) A part-time American Indian Advocate for my region so I was presenting education projects, etc. at Amer-Indian social groups and occasionally speaking at schools.

That was the PRODUCT called ME.

As for the real deal "ME" - The life I told my Mom I wanted while watching a bright commercial on TV at the age of 2 was the one I had. All things considered, I was deliriously happy just cruising through the constancy of life I was married to my heart’s heart, my soul mate. Doug and I owned and helped operate a Martial arts studio, I really wanted to help coach women in self-defense techniques and eventually have a few classes. I still took dance class twice a week,. Dougie was working madly at his job and on home projects. No kids yet though we were "practicing" making a perfect baby (practice makes perfect). We hiked, we camped we danced, we bred and trained Akitas. We entertained a LOT! Whenever we go on one of our outings, we called it "a Cook Adventure." "Adventure" was the perfect moniker generally because we loved just going "off map" to find something new every time; But even more so because whether we liked it or not, the "adventure" in our hands had a tendency to – well – go slightly "different than expected", shall we say. Aw, Screw it, The truth is Murphy’s law bought STOCK in our lives and we learned how to make each pickle into a party.

Other notables in the past – I was in a dance company, I’ve introduced artists at concerts before thousands of people. I had a talk show host with an audience of 300,000. I did this against all odds. For Heaven’s sake, I was a 5 foot tall "exotic" looking American Indian "Picasso" of-a-mix whose body was made to be most comfortable at 135.lbs rather than 103. And who also battled lower body PARALYSIS when I was a toddler. Since I was little, I fought to make my way and lost a LOT. But if I kept at it I would win some battles and that’s when it was worth it. I was the opposite body type for a ballet dancer and yet a ballet company hired me as a soloist. Mom taught me singing since I was three and with only that and high school training, I was accepted to the vocal dept of California Institute of the Arts (CAL Arts). At Disney’s private university, the vocal program is said to be one of the toughest to enter in the country. Or maybe that’s the toughest in California! Or maybe --- it’s pretty tough, let’s leave it at that.

My parents were divorced when I was very young, I think before I was three. I remained with my Mom and older brother and sister when very young, but Daddy always stayed very active in my life. Around 5 years old, my Dad married my Step-mom and later had my younger sister and brother. Every other weekend and summers would be spent with my family "Part duo." So there’s little me in the middle of my two 3-point families. If we were rating these things in baked goods, I would be the squishy creamy center of the Oreo Double stuff^tm Cookie that was my immediate family. I loved them all so very much and I thank God often that my Dad ALWAYS stayed a big part of my life. I love my big, hu-gantic, gi-normous, jigsaw-ish, family unit! Technically, it would be termed as "broken," and "dysfunctional." But great love can move mountains and mend tattered hearts; and it just so happened – my dear reader – that my family had that particular virtue in gobs upon exponential gobs. We put the FUN in dysFUNctional, dangit!

So there’s the "ME" nutshell. I’ll spill more later, as needed... for now, let’s get back to the current show on this road, shall we?

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Monday comes around and it’s time for me to check in at the hospital (AKA "Happy Pants Central") to begin the scheduled physical therapy. I was moving about as smoothly as a snapping turtle with a serious case of constipation (I could say stiffly and painfully, but then the thesaurus makers would be out of a job then, wouldn’t they?)

When you first begin Physical Therapy, the health professional that actually has the degree in physical therapy does an evaluation. Thankfully for me, the PT expert I got was so much better than the ER dork. She actually touched my neck, back and other parts of "OW." She moved my legs around, watched intently as I bent from this side to the other, up to down and then said, "You’re moving as if you have a disc injury." To which my expansive reporter vocabulary responded, "HUH?" "A disc injury. The soft tissue in your spine that lies in between each vertebrae. When something has happened to one or more of those, your body automatically tries to compensate by moving differently. If when you try to bend at the waist, your behind sticks itself out for no apparent reason…that is a very good indication that something has injured the disc." Good Lord! Two minutes with the physical therapist and she tells me more than Dr. Happy Pants even hinted at! ARGH!

Now here’s the fun part: The smart physical therapist, who is 99.7% sure that at least one disc is injured in my lower back, isn’t sure of WHAT therapy to assign because it can be (insert drum roll, please) DANGEROUS to do physical therapy when a disc is injured! She told me this, and looking back I should have said, "thank you" and barged out of there as quick as my banged up body could take me. But this was still a time of innocence for me. Like most that’ve never experienced a serious sickness or injury, I never thought to question anything doctors told me or asked of me. After all, they had all the training, right? I mean, that would be rude. That’s a social faux pas a person with good manners just doesn’t do. Here are my current thoughts on that decision with the structural emphasis help of poet E.E. Cummings:

What

             A

So, I obediently wait while those in the know decide how much damage they can afford to do to me while my diagnosis remains lacking. After much debate and shoulder shrugging, I was told to come back tomorrow and I would be given a routine designed for my injuries – as soon as they decide what those are.