Part of Their World

Yesterday I got to be normal. I got to spend a small amount of time in the normal world. I still analyzed how I was feeling and paid attention to my purple feet and planned my snacks (Not eating a cookie because I already had a cupcake...) That is embedded in me, it's something I can do now without thinking. It was after ministry team, and a couple of us were hanging out. I remember being there, and being able to focus and actually listen to the words my friends were saying. I'm smiling as I remember their faces and our laughter and the amazing feeling of being exactly in that moment. For that time, that was all there was. It was a good day. I'm sometimes afraid to go to sleep on good days, afraid that when I wake up it will be gone. In that moment, I belonged with them. I was one of them. I wasn't the sick girl, but I was just Alisha, their friend. I was in their world, and I wasn't even worried about it ending. I was just there, all there, all of me breathing in that one moment of normalcy. The pieces of this normal world I've been given are far too sweet and wonderful to give up on. Today was another day living life in my 'new normal', this world of mine filled with sickness and fatigue and nausea and pain. But yesterday, I got to be normal. I got to laugh and smile and be exactly in that moment. So I won't give up, I won't stop fighting. Because I've been given pieces of that world and they are far too sweet for me to give up on.

Wordless Wednesdays

7 Quick Takes Volume 4

1. As you probably already know, I read the Hunger Games. I can tell why they're popular. They're definatly amazing. I flew through the first two very quickly (2 books in 2 days) But the third one took me longer to get through. I didn't find it as good as the others. But I can totally understand why people love them, the first book was AMAZING.

2. I went shopping yesterday. Paula and I went into town, looking for tanktops for a project we want to do. We didn't find any tanktops, but I did find some cute shoes. I found one pair I want to glitterize, and another pair I just want to wear. The ones I got to wear, they're high, and I may break my neck trying to walk (Ok, not really!) but they are super cute and I love them. So I got shoes.

3. I've been writing this post for over a week now, slowly adding to my numbers. We'll see if I ever make it all the way to 7.

4. I just finished the book This Lullabye by Sarah Dessen. It's a book where when you finally get to the end you just want to go "Awe..." It also made me wish it was night so I could stare out my window and look at the stars and contemplate life.

5. The Hunger Games movie comes out today, and as I scrolled through facebook today I kept seeing status's about how excited people are for going to see the movie tonight. I am not going to see the movie tonight, But instead opting for supper out and then curling up with a good movie, but I do want to see the Hunger Games movie. So to everyone whose going to see it tonight, have fun and don't spoil it for me!

6. My feet are purple. It reminds me of something my friends said on Wednesday, about shoes bringing out the color of your eyes. So I wonder if I wear a purple shirt, will it bring out the purple in my feet? On second thought, let's just wear socks and warm up my ice cold, purple feet.

7. I finally made it to 7. This post took a while to write, simply because I thought I had nothing to say. It turns out you don't always need something to say, you need to just listen. So I'm grateful to be here... right now. Life is full of sweetness and sorrows and sometimes words aren't needed, sometimes you need to just listen.

P.S I think by the end of this I was maybe just rambling on because I needed something to say, SO this might be the lamest 7 quick takes to date... just sayin' :)

Jaxon's quote's of the day

Here's Jaxon's quotes of the day, enjoy!

"Am I more then 90 minutes old? More then 100 minutes?"

"There's this thing, called Slap, and you go there, and you can unfriend people. one click for want to unfriend them, and two clicks for really want to unfriend them."

Looking at a picture of Jeff Probst "That looks like the grade 8 teacher from our school!"

"You will not unslap me!"

"I guess you can't unslap me, I'm too cool to be unslapped!"

"Do I have a heart?"

I'm kind of a wimp (Yesterday's surgical procedure)

It's confirmed, I'm a wimp. I sat here for a while trying to think up the perfect way to tell you about the minor surgery I got yesterday (Tube change)
After trying multiple times and never finding the right words, I decided to youtube it and see if I could find any videos. I did find some, but then I decided not to show them because none of the kids in the videos screamed. Which kind of makes me the biggest wimp ever.
So yeah, I got my tube changed yesterday. And I'm pretty sure I'm a wimp because the kids in the videos just grimaced and tightened their muscles and made some wierd noise. I, on the other hand, had to be held down (Ok, not literally, but my dad did have to hold both my hands so I wouldn't lunge for the tube.)
So instead of the video, I'm just going to try and describe it, and try to make myself not sound like the wimp I am.
So we were going to change the tube. I think half the battle was talking myself into it. Finally, the show was about to begin. The tube was drained, and my dad held my hands, and the tube was pulled out. In that moment, it hurts. Right in that second as the tube it being pulled out it hurts in a way I can't even describe. All these thoughts go through your head in those few seconds and it's almost like everything else fades away and every part of you is focused on this one thing. And then it's over. The pain begins to let up and you can breathe again and it's over and there's this sigh of relief that comes. I took Motrin before so this time I had minimal after effects (Last time I didn't and had this awful headache and I was really dizzy) so this time I was only a little dizzy. Today I'm a little sore, but nothing to bad.
So that was my minor surgical procedure yesterday.

Finding my Muchness...

You used to be much more... muchier. You've lost your muchness. ~ Mad Hatter

She should be used to my random texts by now... After our conversation on Katniss and Peeta (Yes I did cave into peer pressure and read the Hunger Games) and my random comments that usually go something like...

"Hey, I'm going to complain now..." Or "(Insert quote of the week here)" Or, the infamous "I just did something stupid!" She should be used to it by now

But I wonder if anything ever prepared her for this one... "I want to wear sparkly shoes and a ball gown and go grocery shopping!"

She answered back with "Me too!" (However did I get such amazing friends?)

I'm finding my muchness. I've dreamed of crazy situations, like skydiving or riding a mechanical bull (I've settled for the mechanical type because a horn connecting with any body part doesn't sound fun!). But sometimes it's the little things that mean as much as the big things...

Like wearing red heels in the middle of winter (Or anytime for that matter!) or wearing Wonderstruck perfume even when you have absolutely no place to be, simply because it smells good. Like walking barefoot on the grass or writing those delicious first words of a story without having any idea what will come next.

So I'm going to find my muchness, red heels on my feet and the sun on my back. And who knows, one day maybe I will go shopping in a ball gown!

My night with Bob and Marjorie

Whenever I read this title, I think it sounds like I spent the night with two old people. I DID NOT spend the night with two old people. Marjorie is a fancy name for my pump (and yes, I name my medical equipment. I figure if you're stuck with it, you may as well try and make the best of it) and Bob is the name of my undiagnosed disease. Again, if he's staying, He needs a name.

It was the wee hours of the morning. I hadn't slept at all yet (Can anyone say insomniac?) Suddenly, she began beeping. Loud, shrill beeping. I groaned, fumbling for the light. No food, no food. Her cries echoed out over my empty room.

I calmly pulled my tired self out of bed, stumbling around in the dark on my way to the kitchen.

Just kidding. I took the pillow and smacked it before grumbling and groaning all the way to the kitchen.

I turned on the light and began rinsing the line. If at first I didn't succeed, I tried again.

Just kidding. After a few failed attempts I began to cry and wanted to start looking for the hammer.

After my failed attempts, my mom came out and tried to fix it. I sat on the counter and patiently waited as she tried to fix it.

Just kidding. After more failed attempts I suggested the hammer again.

We finally got it to work and I returned to bed, holding my breath, feeling like I was praying for a miracle. I lay awake in the dark, longing for sleep that never came.Eventually sleep came, and I drifted into dreamland for a few blissful hours before I had to wake up to begin my day.

Pretty soon I forgot that my night with Bob and Marjorie had ever happened, soon forgetting that this wasn't the way that normal teenagers spend their nights.

Except that I didn't.

Audrey Hepburn

This poem was written by my friend Sami. I read this, and absolutely fell in love. It was so relatable and true I almost started to cry. She agreed to let me post this to share with everybody.

There are so many
things I want to tell you
like how
on the couch yesterday
evening I
was sitting on your
lap with your hand
on my shoulder and I
so
wanted to bend down
and kiss your cheek
like how you kissed my
forehead
when you left for the
night.
But I didn’t.
Or how that kiss made
me
(with my frizzy short hair
in a page
boy cut) feel like a
girl,
a proper pretty girl,
like the Audrey
Hepburn
poster on your wall.
I should said all of
this.
But I didn’t.
I didn’t say how I
love
your curved sarcastic
smile or
your black pea coat
with
the buttons that have
anchors
or the nerd jokes you
blurt out
from time to time, so
spontaneous I know you
couldn’t
have planned them out.
And I love
the way you make
smiles with sprinkles
and M&M’s on your
ice cream
cones and nerdfighter
jokes.
I love how you rename
the
folders on my computer
and
search for the things
you
know don’t exist just
because
you want to see me
blush. I
do, but I’m blushing
not because of
what you say, but
because of
how you look at me.
And I
should have told you
all this
last night
when you stood up
from the couch
and planted a kiss on
my forehead.
But I didn’t.
Because I thought of
all the other things I want to tell you
like how I am a bomb
that
will one day pop and
let off smoke,
and I am not whole but
broken
and bruised. You do
not know I
run three times a week
in the mornings
although I feel
nauseous or that I
walk to the pharmacy
once a month
to exchange a thirty
dollar bill for
pills and the enemas
you don’t know
I need to use every
other night. And
you have not seen me
on steroids
with fat cheeks and
face flushed,
ashamed of how I look
and too
tired to go outside.
You have not
seen my eyes grow
tired from
becoming a drugged
insomniac.
You could not love me
then because
you keep Audrey
Hepburn on
your wall. When I am
sick,
I am not Audrey Hepburn.
I am just me then, but
a little
wider in the face and
skinnier in
the hips and breasts.
And sometimes
I will be in the
hospital. Then,
I will not need
someone who can
make faces on ice
cream cones, but
someone who can hold
my hand and
let me cry and tell me
that
I will come out of
there as alive
as when I was carried
in (because
I could not walk). And
you will not
want to hold me then
because you
will be disgusted by
the ticking noise of
the little bomb inside
my intestines
that ticks on and on.
You do not
know what I am at risk
for. Cancers.
Liver disease. Kidney
disease. Things
that could kill me if
my immune system
doesn’t get around to
finishing the task
first. And one day, I
might choose or
be forced to lose my
colon, and I will
need someone to kiss
my forehead not
when I have pounds of
make-up on
my face, but as I lie
listening to my
heartbeats on a
surgical gurney.
I will need someone
brave
who will see me as a
person when
I am little more than
an IV and
a prescription pad.
Because beneath
the medical apparatus
that may one
day cover my skin, I
am a person.
A beautiful person
with a beautiful soul.
You too are beautiful.
But you are meant for
someone different. You
are destined for an
Audrey Hepburn, someone
whose beauty
will always radiate on
the outside. I believe
that beauty must first
and foremost come
from the inside. I am
not
Audrey Hepburn, but
maybe
I am just as beautiful

This is where the healing begins...

At the beginning of this year I made a resolution, of sorts. I picked a word I wanted to describe this year. The word I chose was healing. I wanted this year to be a year of healing for me, not only in the physical sense.
Things over this past year have actually gone downhill for me. I've been in more pain. Life has been rough, and I've had so many ups and downs.
Yet I feel at peace. I feel like, despite all this hard stuff in my life right now, I'm going to be ok. I feel hopeful, and happy, and I actually am feeling pretty good physically. There's hope, glimmering in the distance. There's healing coming to this heart of mine. Let the healing continue to rain down this year. Let it wash over me and transform me. This is where the healing begins...

Because he takes me dancing...

Came up with the idea for this story/poetic prose/ thing last night. I couldn't find (Didn't feel like getting out of bed to get...) any paper, so I ended up writing a line on my wrist, "Because he takes me dancing." Basically it's the story of a girl who's making the decision of who to love. The idea of writing the story came from a couple Grey's quotes and a Taylor Swift song. :)

Life is made up of choices. Yes or no, in or out, up or down, to love or to hate, to live or to die. What to wear, what to eat... who to love.
I loved them both. At least that's what I've always told myself. Both differently, both uniquely, but both love. Now, I had to choose. One left me with butterflies, our history chugging along behind us. The other was safe, secure, and comfortable. I wondered if the choice would break me. I worried about choosing wrong. But inside, I think I knew.
"Help me," I pleaded, " I don't know..." "But you do." Her eyes bore into mine. "You're just scared to do it. This back and forth, it's fear. But you know." The truth pierced my soul like flaming arrows. I knew, but did I have the strength to do it?
Leaving is hard. It breaks you, but as the old bricks fall new ones immediatly take their place. Alongside the confusion and the pain of leaving is the fear of starting all over again, and the smallest glimmer of hope. I put away the pictures, did my best to forget the memories. I would never forget, never stop loving him, but with a heart full of sorrow I turned towards my future and didn't once look back.
Before him, I never thought of myself as good enough. But then I loved him, and he showed me that I am. I know now that I am good enough. I am good enough not to deserve this. To deserve not to feel like this, to love him so much that I almost hate him. To not deserve the constant qurstions that nag me: Who does he love? Is he making her laugh like he used to make me laugh? I know now that I deserve someone who will stay, someone who will love ME.
It hurts to walk away, but I know now I deserve more. So I'm walking away, from him, for me. I'm walking away because I'm learning to love me, learning that even though it's hard I need to do this for myself. I can't make any promises about the future, or if someday I'll find my way back to him. But I known now what I need to do, for me.
So I choose him, the other guy. I choose him because he takes me dancing, leading me and laughing with me when i forget the steps. Because he sings over me and reminds me of whose I am. Because I feel safe and it's easy yet beautiful, it's effortless. For now, I choose him.
I will always love them both. Both differently, but both love. Both hold pieces of my past, but the jury's still out on who will hold my future.
Life is made up of choices. Yes or not, in or out, up or down, to love or to hate, to live or to die, What to wear, what to eat... who to love.

Kony 2012 is not my passion... part 2

To me, it's all an extension of prolife... Understanding the intrinsic value of each tiny life... In the womb, or kidnapped from their bed in Africa. I might not understand the vision of this particular organization that is calling the united states military into action, but I stand with my brothers and sisters that want to see an end to injustice, and protection of the innocent

The whole issue of Kony 2012 is confusing me. I don't know a whole lot about it, so I am just posting inklings of my not fully formed thoughts. The comment above (on my initial post... you can read it HERE) was thought provoking, and once I read it I knew THAT was what I wanted to say.

Like the comment said, I don't understand the vision of this particular organization that is calling the US military into action. I don't doubt that Kony is a criminal, but the whole organization of Kony 2012, the whole idea of getting the US military involved... that causes me to pause. The issue of Kony 2012 is something I've been wrestling with ever since I watched the video for the first time. It breaks my heart to hear of these great injustices going on in our world. I believe that every life is of value, in being a voice for the voiceless.

I guess with saying all that, I believe that Kony is an evil man and needs to be stopped, and that behind the Kony 2012 campaign are good intentions, but I don't believe in Kony 2012.

http://visiblechildren.tumblr.com.nyud.net/ (I'd encourage you to read this article (I liked it, and found it made me think) read a bit more into it and develop your own opinion before jumping on the Kony 2012 bandwagon.)

Kony 2012 is not my passion...

But it should be. Humanity is crying out for justice. The battle is here, in
this decade, in this year, in this broken world. There is a challenge waiting
for me, right here, right now, to respond.
I imagine there were many who murmured to the abolitionists, "The
freedom ofthose slaves... it's not my passion..." or during the Holocaust,
"i'm not evenpart Jewish..." It's easy for us now to look back, and cry to the ones whoshould have spoken up against injustice, "it's so clear!"*

When my children one day look back on this year, on this act
of injustice, on little children being taken away from their homes and
families andforced to become soldiers and slaves, will the thought of it be
as horrible tothem as the thought of the Holocaust is to me? I want to be
able to tell them this injustice broke my heart too

*Quote and Idea Taken from Prolife is not my passion

Kony 2012

I wasn't going to watch this last night. I had things I wanted to do, I didn't know if I could give up the half hour it would take for me to watch this movie. But the link was suddenly showing up everywhere, being sent to all these people. Finally I decided I should probably watch it, just to see what everything was about. So I watched it, and that half hour was well worth it.

http://www.kony2012.com/sharefilm/?utm_source=Facebook&utm_campaign=kony2012&utm_medium=web

Cheese Daze

This afternoon I was trying to think of something to write for a blog post. I couldn't find anything that had happened over the last few days that was *blog worthy* After a while of wracking my brain, I decided I was hungry and wanted a grilled cheese sandwich. I made the sandwich, put the pan on the stove, and put the sandwich in the pan. I changed the channel on the TV so Jaxon could watch a show and decided I should check on my sandwich. I went to the stove and found everything BLACK, the bottom of the pan, my sandwich, everything. I turned off the heat and took the pan off that spot. I then tried to peel the sandwich off the bottom of the pan. Of course it was burnt so bad that when I tried to scrape it off it crumbled into a million burnt crumbs. When I finally got the burnt sandwich off the pan and into the garbage, I put the pan in the sink, determined to scrub the bottom in an attempt to get off all the black. I turned on the water and all of a sudden there was this popping noise. The pan was actually sizzling. Once I scrubbed it out the best I could, I texted my best friend. I told her the story, of how I was looking for something blog worthy and then how I almost burnt the house down while trying to make grilled cheese. She laughed at me and pretty much told me I brought this on myself.
Here I am, still wondering how I managed to completely destroy grilled cheese (I mean, seriously, I've been making that forever!) So that was my *blog worthy* afternoon.

7 quick takes ~ Volume 3

1. Does it show what a great start this is, if I can't even get to one without thinking for a while? I always find beginnings the hardest. Once I get going with these things they just seem to come along, but when I start my head is always filled with wierd thoughts and I can never actually get going down the path I want to. Just like when I'm writing a novel, I finish it, and when I read over it again there's always this doubt in my head that says "Why did you write that? It's awful! No one will want to read what YOU have to say," And I know that's not true, and what I wrote isn't completely awful.

2. In December, right after I had finished writing my novel but before I started editing, I came across this quote, "You didn't shy away from the tough parts of you story because you knew it was the only way to help people who don't have your strength, so make yourself vulnerable."

I don't know why, but I really loved that. It was actually something that encouraged me to pick up the novel again and keep writing, and keep editing. There was a story there, a story that I had to tell.

3. I find wierd quotes help me through certain times in my life. Usually they're from Grey's, and usually I take them WAY out of context. But they work. Like during exams in January, the one quote I used was "Are you asking me or telling me?" (Dr.Shepherd... aka Mcdreamy.) I don't know why, but that was what got me through exam week. Recently it's been "Well this could be fun if we let it." (Dr.Sloan... aka Mcsteamy.) Again, totally unrelated to my situation (This one possibly way more then the last one) but I love it anyway.

4. On Wednesday, at Ministry Team, we were assigned Prayer Partners. We had talked about it for a while, and on Wednesday it was actually assigned. Can I tell you a secret? I'm kinda in love with my prayer partner. She's pretty awesome.

5. Tonight was So you think you can dance night at youth. Now it is a fact that I can not dance (or can not dance WELL) But it was still a lot of fun. It was fun dancing with friends and eating icecream and laughing, a lot. It's little things like that that matter, things like learning the line dance to Cadillac Ranch and holding on to elbows and spinning (Long story) knowing that right now, nothing else matters but being right here, held and laughing. It's things like that that make everything else fade away. It's things like that that keep you going.

6. There's a new program coming to the Grande Prairie Hospital called Bravery Beads. They are these beads that you put on a string, and for every medical procedure you have done you get a bead to add to your string. I can't wait to collect my string of beads. I have 15 years to make up for!

7. There's lots of things I wish I could say, but can't find the right words. Sometimes, Words Fail

As long as ~ Dying to Live

I watched a documentary on TLC yesterday called Breathless Bride ~ Dying to live.
It's about a girl who has cystic fibrosis, and is getting married. It was hard to watch. Not only because one of my good friend's died from this awful disease, but because of the reality it carries... for all of us facing life with a chronic illness. I did cry because in the face of this bride, not only did I see a person with cystic fibrosis, I saw myself. I saw myself in the way that, while they were out and it was time for meds, she so secretively attached the tube to the port under her shirt and her fiance administered the meds, while she drank a Margareta and acted like it was the most normal thing in the world. I saw myself in the way that, even when she felt like crap, she went out and she tried to live a normal life as best she could. I saw myself in her, and my heart broke. We're all connected, all of us with chronic illnesses. We live a life that is so far from normal, yet it is our normal. And if you asked me to, I don't know if I could picture my life any other way. The girl on the show, she described her illness as an unwanted friend. She's grateful for all it's taught her, but it's an unwanted friend, something she would gladly trade in. I think that's true, that I am so grateful for all my illness has taught me, but if you asked me if I would trade in all these symptoms, and all this pain, and everything else that comes along with it, I would say yes. As long as I could keep the memories. As long as I can remember all I have learned from being sick. As long as...
We're the center of the storm I get asked how I do it, how I live like this all the time, and there's no answer, you just do. That's not to say it doesn't hurt like crazy, but it's normal. Living like this, with this unwanted friend hanging over my shoulder, it's my normal. You learn to find hope in the little things, to appreciate every day. I don't think there is a how, on how one lives with a chronic illness, you just do.
It's hurts like crazy, but I am dying to live.