Winning the War (on POTS)

I've had the feeling like I need to start blogging again for a while now, but I've been pushing it off with half-hearted excuses, much like I did with cleaning chores as a kid.  So why the sudden change of heart?  One ugly, gut-wrenching word: suicide.  I just read an article about a college freshmen from MIT who had been battling POTS for a couple of years, had a bad flare up that required her to take a medical leave from school and return home.  Between the pain and all the other symptoms that come with POTS and having to leave her dream and her world at MIT behind because of it, she committed suicide.  She left a note for her mother saying, "Sorry, I couldn't keep fighting."

I get it.

Having a similar story to Christina's - both graduating Valedictorian at age 17, all the personality traits that go along with that; getting frustrated when the only thing people say to you is, "How's your health doing?" especially when the answer is always, "Not well!" but you never say that because you don't like to dwell on it and you really don't like pity; and finally, we both had to leave university early on medical leave because of POTS - this news really hit close to home.  It makes me cringe to bring attention to myself for anything POTS related; that's why I haven't been blogging.  Now I see a reason to speak up and reach out that is worth so very much more than my pride or ego.  I KNOW what it's like to feel completely alone, that there is no one in your life or in the lives of those you know that can come close to understanding or relating to what you're going through.  It took me several years with POTS before I found a diagnosis and even longer before I was able to meet someone who had it.  I had to leave college in the middle of the semester - 3 times! -  to go home because I could no longer meet my basic needs, let alone get to class.  I know what that's like.  I know the frustration and heartbreak.

I get it.

I guess this post is just in case someone out there is scouring the web in the wee hours of the morning looking for understand, for just one person who can relate to what they're going through on their journey with POTS or any other chronic illness at a young age.  I want you to know you are not alone.  You are NEVER alone.  There are people out there who know exactly what you're going through.  What you're going through is REAL.  There are people around you who really do genuinely care how your health is doing.  And there is always, ALWAYS a loving God who is so very anxious to wrap His arms around you and give you peace and calm when He cannot calm the storm.

Don't give up!  Don't quit fighting!  The fight is hard and it is long and sometimes it seems like it is never-ending, but it IS worth it!  When you feel like it's just too much to carry on, reach out!  Reach out to God, reach out to your family, reach out to your loved ones, reach out to your doctors, you can even reach out to me.  The point is, you are not alone and there are people anxious to come to your side and fight along side you when it seems you're on the losing side of the battle.  Just remember, there are many battles within a war and it doesn't matter how many battles you win or lose, just that you keep fighting until you win the war.

Don't Judge a House by Its Wheelchair

The past month or so my health has taken a sudden and drastic turn for the worse.  I've been in and out of the hospital and am back in a wheelchair.  It's been extremely difficult for me.  After six years with POTS I'm still battling it out every single day.  When is it going to end?  When is it - when am I - going to get better?  Sometimes it feels like it never will. . .

Blessedly, I have the most incredible and Christ-like roommates with the best sense of humor!  One roommate even wheels me to class and makes food for me to eat because she wants me to stay! I am truly loved.

Whenever I go through an extraordinarily difficult time, I try to figure out what it is that I am supposed to learn from it.  I secretly hope that if I can figure out whatever that trial is meant to teach me, then I can somehow make the trial end sooner.  It's a pretty good motivation to seek learning.  I've been praying every day to understand what it is I'm supposed to take from this recent and very unexpected health complication.  I was getting frustrated after weeks and weeks without getting any closer to an answer.  Then, it hit me.

It's not about my vessel, it's about being His vessel.  It's not about the state or condition of my body that matters, but rather, how I use it.  Life's all about overcoming the body, or natural man.  Looking past the physical and seeing the spirit within.  Apparently I need to lose the use of my body to understand how unimportant it is in defining who I am.  To realize how little my body and physical health have to do with my identity and worth.

 My body is only a vessel, a shelter for my spirit, and I am so much more than the house I live in.  Though the foundation may be cracked and the paint may be chipping from the walls, it can still be a house filled with warmth, love, and the Spirit of a merciful God.  It can still do much good in the lives of others, bringing them peace and comfort.  It can still provide others a shelter from the raging storms of this world.  My humble little house can still be a little piece of heaven on earth for those who frequent it.

So starting now, I'm going to work harder on not being focused on the state of my body, but more, focused on what I'm choosing to do with it.  It's not about how much you have, but what you do with what you've got.  And boy, oh boy, have I got some pretty tremendous things left inside of me!

I'm Back!

I can't believe it's already been almost a year since my last entry!  In May I went to an AMAZING treatment program at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota.  They were the hands and the mouth pieces the Lord used to answer my own prayers and the many prayers offered on my behalf.  My doctor there advised me to never again talk about my health to anyone.  I've tried diligently to follow all of my doctor's orders, but to this one I say, "Screw it!"

I've come to realize that while people now treat me as a person and not a medical condition, I am no longer able to reach out to and encourage and inspire others without referencing my Great Trial.  I can't sit back and keep my mouth shut anymore.  God gave me this trial and all the wonderful lessons and experiences that came with it so that I can use them to help others, not to pretend it never happened.

So here I am, back and ready to go!

I'm amazed at how much strength the Lord can give me each and every day.  I know without a doubt that as I turn to Him, He sends angels to uphold me up and ease my burdens.  God is so very giving.  While I am doing REMARKABLY better health-wise, there are still days and moments when I struggle.  Life is a great balancing act. 

There is one building I cut through each day on my way to campus from my apartment.  I have to climb up a staircase to reach the level of campus, as the school sits on a hill.  I push myself to always take the stairs, remembering all the times stairs weren't even an option for me  On days when I am struggling, as I slowly trudge up the final stairs, a life-size brass statue of Christ greets me.  On those days, I say to Him, "Help me Lord, I can't do this without You."  I can feel His love and support fill me and lift me up.  All things are made possible through our Savior.  He did not Atone and die on the Cross for only our sins.  No, He Atoned also for all of our trials, for all of our ailments.  I know Jesus Christ gave His life to help me through this one.  He gave His life to free me from the burdens I can no longer carry.  He gave His life so that I can live again with Him in His Home above.  I am never alone.  Neither are you.

Want v. Need

Today I felt better than I have in a while and it made such a dramatic difference!  I was even able to go outside for a bit.  Fresh air is God's medicine.  It did me some good to play with Henry, my sister's six month-old corgi, and to pull some weeds around the house for my mama.  I even got some good mediation practice in and got Henry and Zipper, the very ornery family cat, to coexist in harmony through a lot of petting and and cooing; in many ways animals are a lot like toddlers.

Today was all about the little pleasures in life.  I felt accomplished when I got the animals to play nice for the first time.  I felt proud of myself when I was able to do something nice for my mom by pulling the weeds.  I felt connected when my family watched America's Best Dance Crew together and "voted" on our favorites.  I felt merry when Erica and I took funny pictures together that never came out because we were laughing so hard neither one of us could hold the camera still.  I felt light when I cleaned off and uncluttered my nightstand.  Sometimes I think our society focuses so much on the "importance" of filling space we forget the value in just letting space be space.

I've been reading several books on minimalism over the past few months and have done a great deal to declutter every aspect of my life.  When you live with a chronic health condition time and energy become even more precious and valued for their rarity.  I view my energy as money that must be budgeted; each day I wake up with an allotted budget and must spend it wisely.  Consequently, prioritizing has made its way to the forefront of my attention and the focus of my personal studies. 

With poor health comes bountiful time to think about many things most people my age haven't had the need or occasion to think of.  For this, I am grateful.  Life doesn't ever go the way we plan but in the scheme of things, I don't want it to.  My vision is so very limited with the blinders of perspective and experience I don't have.  When I think of the plans in life that didn't come to pass because of circumstances out of my control I see how devastated I was in the moment, but then I see how much better things were with the way they turned out.  I know what I'm going through will be for my gain in the long run.  The lessons it's teaching me and the person it's helping me become is far greater than what I could have ever planned for myself.   I'm so very grateful I have not always been given what I want in life, but rather, what I need.

For Mary

People come into our lives for a reason.  Every now and again someone will say exactly what I need to hear to be uplifted, re-motivated, and to feel loved.  Today I got a beautiful card from my friend Mary.  We haven't seen each other in a year as we live in different countries but were roommates in college our freshman year.  I needed to hear everything she had to say.  As I was reading I felt the loving warmth of our friendship and it meant a great deal as my physical health has not been well lately.  At the end of the letter she asked (commanded) me to keep blogging because it was inspirational, so Mary, this one's for you.

I know it's been a while since my last entry.  My health has been about the same since my last entry over half a year ago, unfortunately.  I had the wonderful opportunity in February to go to the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minnesota, for a week of fun-filled poking, prodding, and testing.  It was all worth it though as I've never had doctors as knowledgeable, helpful, and compassionate, as the doctors I saw there.  It turns out the Mayo Clinic has the nation's only POTS treatment program.  It's an outpatient program that lasts about a month and has phenomenal success rates.  I leave for it in just a few weeks!

Most pinnacle moments in life aren't realized until they become memories.  It's not very often in life that a person is aware their life is about to be dramatically changed ahead of time.  I know this POTS treatment program will forever change the trajectory of my life, whether it cures me or not.  This is it.  There's nothing higher in the medical field of POTS treatment and research than the Mayo Clinic and its program.  If it allows me to live a normal healthy life again, then it's obvious how my life will be changed from its current and past state.  If I go through this program and I don't get better, well that's just a depressing future to think of.  My friends ask me if I'm nervous or scared for this treatment as the doctors have forewarned me that for at least the first week I'm going to feel like I can't make it through.  I wouldn't say I'm scared or nervous for what I'm going to go through in this treatment, not after everything I've already been through with my attacks.  Not after knowing that what I will be going through will make me better.  It's so much easier to face hard things when I know it's going to make me better, and hopefully, it's going to make all the hard things I face everyday with my POTS go away.  I think I'm more anxious for it than anything else.  I'm anxious to meet people my age going through the same things I am.  I'm anxious for it to be over.  I'm anxious to know if I'm going to be all better.  But most of all, I'm anxious to move forward with my life.

Anything I Could Do, I Can Do Better

When I learned that the cornerstone of my treatment to getting better would be reprogramming my brain I realized just how much the Lord prepares people for the trials and challenges they will face in life.  I thought to myself, "that totally sounds like something I would do."  Though I know the road to recovery is long and hard I am overwhelmed with the sure knowledge that I can do it.  I'm constantly learning of little ways God has prepared me throughout my life to have the skills and tools I will need to overcome this obstacle and go on to accomplish even greater things.  There's so much I'm continuing to learn even though I'm not in any classroom this semester. 

We all have experiences throughout life that progressively build us up and equip us with the right tools to come out on the right side of our next roadblock.  I know that we will never face a wall too high to climb, but that's not to say we won't need a boost getting over it.  We are never alone and the only thing that could get in our way of progressing through life is ourselves.  Sometimes we just have to tell our humanity - our fears, insecurities, weaknesses, short-comings - to take the backseat and marvel at all the unshackled potential and ability that was just bursting to get out.

Torro! Torro!

Some of the talents I posses: planning, organizing, determination, drive, ambition and the love of setting and accomplishing goals.  Once I set my mind to something I knock down every brick wall I encounter until I reach my desired destination.  Nothing can get in my way and any nay-sayings to my goal offered by others or doctors gets lost in the wind.  It's a very good trait to have and has served me well with all of the brick walls I've encountered with my health.  I approach them head-on and bull-dose right through each of them.

While this approach gets me far it's also incredibly important - and something I can definitely improve upon - to take the time to slow down, enjoy, and soak in all of the lessons and blessings that are in the present.  Sometimes all I see is the waving red cape and charge right at it without stopping to see the crowd or the roses they throw.  It's something that's hard for me.  Right now I am so completely focused on achieving my goal of being well enough to return to BYUH that I'm not having the right perspective and patience, the right peripheral vision if you will, with the lessons I'm supposed to be learning along the way.  I was reminded of that today.

I'm so anxious to get back to my life, to finally move forward.  I realized today that when I think from that perspective I'm defining "moving forward" and "having a life" in terms that aren't necessarily the most beneficial or insightful.  I do have a life and I am living it every second of every day.  Who's to say that the lessons I am to learn from the trials I am waging through right now aren't helping me progress in the grand scheme of things?  Certainly they are in a grand way.  I'm learning that even though much of my time is spent on bed rest I still need to slow down.  How crazy does that sound?

Perspective is a fluid concept that can and should be challenged and altered accordingly everyday of life.  If we're simply content with life and our beliefs - and I don't mean religious beliefs - the way they are, what fun is that?  Where's the growth?  Where's the development?  Where's the progress?  And what is life without progression?  Unfortunately progression cannot come without a few sturdy brick walls blocking the path.  But just as Randy Pausch said in his book, The Last Lecture, "Brick walls are there for a reason.  They give us a chance to show how badly we want something."  Boy, oh boy, do I want to be well enough to return to BYUH badly but I have to realize that shouldn't necessarily be my number one priority.  When I learn to put the little things first the bigger things will fall into place.  Day by day.  I need to keep my perspective broad and all-encompassing, not solely focused on the bright red cape just a few feet out of reach, enthralling me.

Lies My Mother Told Me

My mama and her mama before her always said, "If you have your health, you have everything."  When I was little this was just the ramblings of old people.  Now that I am older and a bit wiser too, I have put a lot more thought into this phrase.  When I began my physical trial I cringed every time mama said this, which felt like every day.  When others would ask about my health she'd find a way to bring this up and say how now she understands what her mama meant when she said it and how wise she was.  As I stood by and listened I thought, "If health is everything, what do I have?  Nothing?"  It really perturbed me.  According to the logic of this phrase, I had nothing, my life was over, I had nothing to contribute to the world.  I couldn't disagree more.  I may not have the greatest health at the moment, but I have hope, family, friends, knowledge, and so much more.  I can still laugh and enjoy the moments I have, whether they're stuck on bed rest or out climbing mountains.  Just because my health may not be the greatest now doesn't leave me destitute forever.  There's hope in a brighter future, in doctors making new break-throughs and in recovery.  The part of this concept of having nothing if I don't have my health was nails on the chalkboard to me.  It was the idea that I have nothing to contribute to the world just because my body misbehaves.  Excuse me, but I still have a perfectly good mind and plenty of skills to equip me with a plethora of ways I can contribute to the world around me.  No health condition can deprive me of my ability and agency to smile at all I see, to be an open ear and shoulder to all who stand in need, and to reach out to others all around the world through all of the amazing ways of communication that now exist.  One of the greatest things of all I can do is to reach out to others struggling with physical disabilities and hardships and let them know they're not alone in what they're going through and feeling.  I know that's something I search for and it's something I can give.  There is so very much I can give - "healthy" or not.

As I've mulled over this little nugget that's been passed down through the generations, there's one simple correction I would make.  In my eyes and experience, health has NOTHING to do with what I have or don't have in life.  My relationship with my Savior, Jesus Christ, does.  When I have that I have peace, comfort, hope, joy, and companionship.  I know that I'm never alone and there's someone out there who loves me beyond measure and knows exactly what I'm going through every step of the way.  When I have God I have dry eyes and quieted fears.  I have a better perspective and more patience to endure with a happy heart and not a complaining or self-pitying one.  I'm not perfect, but I can be made perfect in Him.  Regardless of my health.  No, I have learned that having health is not everything.  What I will pass down to my children and grandchildren will only be one word different than what was passed down to me.  But sometimes one little word can make all the difference.  For when you have God, you have everything.

No Dessert 'Til After You Finish Your Dinner

I suppose I've been putting this entry off because I didn't know what to say.  The first part of August I was admitted to OHSU for a week of testing.  From it I learned I do not have epilepsy, but we're in the right "-ology".  I also learned that any last hope I had of returning to school for Fall semester was completely and utterly extinguished.  When I asked about Winter semester, as I would need to be making plans relatively soon, I was told "not to worry about school right now".  Tonight, after a long battle with BYUH's "medical deferment" policy, I officially discontinued.  I feel sick to my stomach and completely exhausted.  It's hard to spend a lifetime working hard, giving my all to reaching a goal that's dangling just out of reach.  I know I'll get through this and I know I'll be able to return to school, just not now.  It's like I'm told I can have my favorite dessert, AFTER I finish all the liver and fermented spinach on my plate.  I don't want the gross dinner that's staring me in the face.  I just want my yummy dessert.  Unfortunately life's not always sprinkles and chocolate.

So, for the next few months (I'm still putting a heavy hope on returning to BYUH in January) I'll be continuing my medical journey of blood sausage and monkey brains, enduring only because I know what awaits me at the other end.  The doctors may say it's very unlikely I'll be able to return for Winter semester, but that's only because they don't know me.  I'm a very goal-oriented person and once I set my mind on something, I make it happen.  Did you know it's medically been proven that people can will a wart off of their foot?  Oh the power of the human mind and will-power.  So bring on the pig intestines and cockroaches.  This girl's got the stomach for anything placed before her.  What wouldn't I do for a slice of chocolate haupia pie from Ted's?

Exhibit L

Sometimes I think life is hard.  And if I didn't know any better, there are moments I'd think life to be too hard.  Thank Heavens I know better.  The attacks haven't stopped, in fact they've only gotten progressively worse.  People assume that just because it's my body doing the weird things that I'm some sort of medical genie with all of the answers about it.  Well, my mama taught me what assuming does.  Just because it - what ever "it" is - is happening to me, doesn't mean I have any more clue than the masses of medical professionals that have scratched their heads in my direction.  I'm just the lucky girl with the front row seat to the show.

I can tell I've learned so much and already progressed so far because I'm finding myself admitting things to myself that I wouldn't before.  Like, sometimes I really am scared during the attacks, especially ones where I can hardly breathe.  I know this sounds crazy and completely irrational, but it's taken me a loooong time to be able to admit to myself that sometimes my life is hard, and that's okay.  I used to believe that admitting that life was hard was a sign of weakness on my part and I just needed to be stronger.  I mean, people go through so much worse than I do, what right do I have to think my situation difficult?  Not for the first, or last time, I was wrong.

How can I properly assess my growth if my measuring stick is warped?

Sure, if I compare having each limb gnawed off by beavers while simultaneously going through Chinese water torture to what I go through, than I have nothing to complain about.  But, if I compare what I go through, not only during my attacks, but on a daily basis, with what I've been through in the past (being healthy) then I have every right to think what I do isn't easy.  Being completely and utterly honest with myself about the hard stuff - fears, vulnerabilities, short comings - enables me to see myself in a more pure lighting.  Without the skewed shadows I can see the picture much more clearly.

  Clarity accentuates the positive as much as it exposes the negative.

As humans, we tend to blow the perceived negative in ourselves way out of proportion to the point that we become blind to our positive.  We become fearful that the whole world sees the ugliness that we see in ourselves, so we try to mask it.  What we fail to realize is that the masks we put up only draw attention to our "problem areas", which are usually a fraction of what we perceive them to be.  So where we naturally had a beautiful painting, where the few minute flaws only expressed individuality and our own idiosyncrasies - nothing that distracted from the masterpieces that we are - we allow our fears and insecurities to distort our canvases to the point that what once was a lovely Monet has become a Salvador Dali.  As any artist knows, it's all about the way in which we illuminate ourselves.  Our natural light comes from truth.  It isn't until we add a few pigments of inaccurate self-imagery or self-deception that the once favorable lighting becomes oh so horrifying.

So how do we revert our tainted light to pure light?  How do we see ourselves the way that the Painter sees His masterpieces?  Unfortunately, there's no magic light bulb we can just screw in to replace the old.  It's a process that takes time and a lot of labor.  Not dirty, sweaty labor, but a labor of love, forgiveness, patience, understanding, compassion, and most of all, mercy.  With ourselves.  How many of us can honestly say we treat ourselves with all of these attributes?  Sure, we can be quick to see past others' short comings and mistakes - after all, they're just human - but are we as merciful with ourselves?  We are a work of art!  Who is to judge whether the style or brushstrokes in which we were painted are right or wrong?  We are all made differently, but not one was made less masterfully.  It's all in how we see it.  Our self-confidence comes in knowing that He who created us would never make any work of art less than an extraordinary showpiece.  It's up to us to figure out, in this great big Museum, which Exhibit we were meant to shine in.

Soaring Above Old Fences

I didn't think I could top two attacks within 15 hours, but true to myself, I found a way to out-due myself once again.  Last night, Japh camped out in the living room with me again and I was so lucky to have such a mellow little brother with me.  I was able to wake him up around 1 AM and he took very good care of me during the whole attack.  He also went and woke up mama and papi.  When I started feeling my attack coming on, I was in complete disbelief.  I thought to myself, "This can't be happening; there's no way I could have another one."

THREE ATTACKS WITHIN 20 HOURS.

Every attack makes my whole body so sore and weak, and to have them over and over again, it only made it hurt worse during each subsequent attack.  Despite all of this, I surprised myself with how well I handled the attack mentally.

You never know what you're capable of doing until you're pushed to your limits.  Even during the third attack, I was given strength from a place much deeper than I'm capable of reaching on my own.  I know that my Heavenly Father gave me the mental and emotional strength to endure my physical trial.  For even during the worst of it, I was surprised by the realization that I could not only handle three attacks back-to-back, but that I could handle more.  I was pushed past what I believed to be my limit only to find the fence-line 20 yards further ahead of me. 

What a beautiful gift I have been given.  So many people go through life believing what they're capable of to be so much less than what it truly is.  They see their field of possibilities and capabilities to be a much more harnessed and arid land than what it actually is.  But there is One who sees the fertile, flowing fields within each of us.  Unfortunately, we humans don't gain this sight until we reach a point in our lives where we can no longer keep going on our own power and will.  We can never see this beauty until we are swept up by angels sent from Heaven to carry us to higher place, for the beauty of our fields can only fully be embraced from a bird's-eye view.  We can never see the great work we're capable of doing when we're caught up in pulling the weeds or planting the seeds.  Though these acts are incredibly important as they are multiplied together to create our own little wonder.  I know there is a beauty within all of us that is beyond magnificence, and it is my prayer that everyone might have the blessing of the freedom that comes with a First Class Flight.

Shake, Shake, Shake, Shake, ah Shake It (Metro Station)

Well, turns out I spoke too soon with the "opps, I did it again" title.  I had another attack a little less than two hours ago that lasted an hour.  It was the first attack that my little brothers had seen.  I was so proud of them, they handled it so well.

I don't know why I keep having them over and over again; I keep trying to figure out what lesson it is I'm supposed to be learning from them.  Maybe I'm just supposed to know that I can withstand hard times.  This evening, my family went into town to run a few errands and I stayed home alone.  I really needed to go to the bathroom, but after trying to sit up on the couch and falling back down, I realized crawling was my best option.  I made it only three feet from the couch when I realized I was going to have an attack.  I had left my phone resting on the top of the back of the couch.  I tried so hard to crawl up the couch to reach it.  I almost thought I wouldn't be able to.  It's a testament to Heavenly Father's love for His children that I was able to reach it.  I called my sister - she always has her phone on her - and by the time she answered I was already convulsing so all she heard was me trying to gasp for air.  All I heard was, "Lauren?...Oh crap."  And then my phone went flying with my next convulsion.  There was reassurance in knowing that my family was coming.

There is such a great strength from those that love you.  What a wonderful gift a family is.  Family isn't just those related by blood, family is the support system we have filled with people who love us despite our weaknesses and shortcomings.  I could never have made it through any of this without the support of my unique and diverse family.  I gained a lot of siblings while I was in Hawaii, and I am so grateful for every member of my family.  So this is a shout out to every one who has touched my life.  Thank you for all you've done for me, and someday, I hope to help others the same way so many people have supported, cared for, prayed for, and loved me.  Your influence reaches further than you know.

Opps!...I Did It Again!

I had another exciting early morning.  About 5 AM I had another attack.  Luckily, I was able to call the house.  Both my parents came down to help me.  This was the first night since my last attack that Japhy didn't sleep downstairs with me.  I'm beginning to think I can't be left alone, even to sleep. 

This attack was pretty relentless and lasted about an hour and a half.  It was light outside when my attack finally finished.  This one was a little more upper body intense.  My arms would convulse and my shoulders would seize up so tightly that my throat would be completely closed and I couldn't breathe.  Over and over again.  Between this and my legs convulsing, my mama said I looked like a fish outta water.  I felt badly that they had to miss out on their sleep.  Too bad I can't schedule these attacks for a more convenient time, like never. 

Japhy was a saint.  He made me lunch when I woke up, and helped me walk to the bathroom.  He even let me pick what show I wanted to watch, and watched it with me. 

This attack was just really frustrating because I was finally getting strong enough to walk around downstairs and sit up on my own without feeling like I was going to fall over.  I had big goals for today, like going upstairs for the first time in over a week, showering, and even trying to clean my room a little.  Instead, I get another couple of recovery days downstairs and back to weakness, soreness, and dizziness.  I tried to sit up to eat and it was too much for my body.  Sometimes I find my physical limitations rather inconvenient. 

On the plus side, I got a couple new movies in the mail today to keep me entertained. 

Buying Sanity

This past week I've fallen even further in love with amazon.  More specially, with how incredibly cheap you can find things there, not to mention their free two day shipping with prime.  I've purchase some movies for the same price - or cheaper, depending where you go - than it costs to rent them.  With so much time on bed rest while everyone else is at work, I've deemed this an investment in my sanity.  Too bad I can't buy my physical health as well.

Right now I am in the midst of trying to get things sorted school-wise.  It's a lot harder than I feel it should be, but then again, what in life isn't?  I really just want to get a medical deferment, and I have the medical documentation and doctor's note - who knew you'd still need one in college? - to more than prove my qualifications for such.  Unfortunately, everyone I've talked to in various offices around campus today has said that BYUH doesn't offer medical deferments and that my only option is to discontinue and reapply to return to BYUH when I'm well.  There are several problems with this option.  1)  I'd have to reapply several months ahead of time, so if I want to reapply for Winter semester, I'd have to discontinue and immediately turn around and reapply, HOPING that I'll be readmitted for Winter semester.  Granted, they said that my admittance chances as a returning student would be higher.  2)  I'd have to do that process all over again if, Heaven Forbid, I need to take two semesters off for more medical testing.  3)  I would lose all of my scholarships, which are relatively substantial. If I write a letter of appeal and it's approved, I will be able to defer half of them for winter semester, and I'd only lose the other half because I discontinued and was no longer a student.  If I try to take some online classes fall semester, than I'd lose all of my scholarships.  Would it be cheating the system if I discontinued from BYUH and took some online classes elsewhere and just had the credits transferred once I returned?  That way I could keep the scholarships and take online classes... So far, I've only spoken to student workers, and I've only spent one day trying to sort all of this out, so there's hope for a brighter answer tomorrow, or sometime in the next month.  I need to do some more reading, but I don't believe that forcing me to discontinue and reapply due to medical reasons is legal according to the Americans with Disabilities Act (ADA).  Good thing I know a good attorney who's passionate about my education.  I'm really just hoping to get things sorted with relative ease and kindness; true to my independent self, I'd rather just figure things out on my own.

On the plus side, my movies should be here tomorrow.  I'm definitely excited for something new to do.  What's even better?  The family cat of 10 years came back after being gone for almost a week!  We all thought Zipper had become dinner for the coyotes or hawks.  Even though I'm allergic, I was happy she's still alive and around.  She's mostly an outdoor cat who serves as mouse-catcher, but spends nights and winters in the garage.  It's been weird going out there and not being perpetually almost-tripped by a cat zipping between my feet.  I doubt I'll be missing that in a day or two...but we all sacrifice things for those we love.

Moving Forward

Today I went back to the doctor's office to get some lab work done.  It took five "fishing expeditions" in both forearms and hands before the nurse was able to get a vein to cooperate.  I'm pretty used to this scenario anytime blood work is needed and I like to think of my bruises as really cool battle wounds I can compare to my little brothers'.  (Which I promptly did this evening, and would have won if Japhy hadn't have run into something in the dark.)  While the nurse kept becoming frustrated with her unsuccessful attempts, I was cheering her on and making jokes about it.  Though I wish I would have been given bigger veins with all of the medical testing this life apparently has in store for me, I'm incredibly grateful blood and needles don't make me woozy.  Inbetween attempts three and four, my nurse asked me where I fit in in my family.  I told her I was the middle child.  She replied, "That doesn't surprise me."  Being the curious little cat I am, I asked her why.  She said she could tell I was the middle child because I was so laid back and easy going while she, the oldest child, was stressing out.

To anyone hearing this story who's spent any amount of the first 17 years of my life with me, they would say, "I don't know who that nurse was talking about, but it certainly wasn't the Lauren I know."  And they'd be right.  I spent most of my life being the poster child for the over-achieving, type-A+ personality.  Having that personality gave me a Hulk-like drive to always do better, be better, but it came at a hefty cost.  Perfectionism is all about doing and being the best, not your best and it can lead to a life filled with stress, unrealistic self-expectations, and inevitably, feelings of inadequacy.  I come by it honestly with two high-stress perfectionistic parents.  Somewhere about middle school, I realized that that's not the kind of life I want to lead and I prayed everyday from then on for help to become more laid back and easy-going.  It came in steps so small they could only possibly be construed as embryo steps, because even calling what little progress I made a baby step would be an exaggeration.  That is, until I developed my health condition.  What a catalyst for growth and change my physical trial has been in my life.  I'm hoping to find some sort of middle ground between the two lifestyles.  A place where I can keep the drive, will, and tenacious, hard working side that opened the door for so many wonderful opportunities in my life, and the relaxed, easy-going nature that allows life to truly be enjoyed.

This trial has forced me to learn how to let go of not only life circumstances out of my control, but also how to let go of a fast-paced, do-everything lifestyle.  When you live 14 miles out of town and your car breaks down, you learn how to walk.  As you walk, you're able to see all of the beautiful scenery that flew past you when you drove, and you get to stop and meet all of your wonderful neighbors who are walking as well.  And when you do this, you realize all of the little blessings and moments of happiness you missed out on while you drove into town everyday by yourself, preoccupied with your mountain of a to-do list for the day.  This trial has taught me how to live without the things I felt I couldn't.  Life will go on.  Often times, I feel like Mario on Mario Brothers when the screen just keeps pushing him to go forward.  There's no sitting still, there's no going back.  With time, there's only forward.  So why not move with it?