What's in the bag? Day 4

What's in your bag?

A view inside my bag is not something people usually see. Inside are little cornstarch splatters, something that makes me smile every time I see them. It's kind of a disorganized mess...

So, here's what's inside of my bag

* Dental Floss
* Wallet
* Gum
* Mittens
*My phone
* A water bottle (I don't know if I really go anywhere without it these days. I never used to take my water bottle anywhere, but now I always find I put it in my bag. Also, people with Dysautonomia get dehydrated easier. I don't actually know if this is really true for me, but just in case, I want to make sure I have water on hand.)
* Medical letters
* Salted Peanuts (With Dysautonomia, you're supposed to increase you salt intake. I've been noticing I'm craving more salty things anyway, but I've been using it as an excuse to add salt to my seasonings list, just in case)
* Extra G-Tube and things in case I need to change my tube when I'm out (No idea why that's still in there.)
* Emergency kit with snacks (Crackers, granola bars...)
* Cornstarch
* Glucometer
* Glucose Tabs
* Tiny stuffed Elephant
* Little pooh bear on a chain
* $4.25
* Kleenex
* empty Chemstrips container
* Batteries
*Bandaid

And a whole bunch of garbage I just dug out from the bottom of my purse (Which I just cleaned out and put in the garbage)

The Strong One

I found this right around the time I got diagnosed. I remember reading it, and thinking how true it is, or how true it feels. Maybe it's not true, but it sure feels that way from where I'm standing. I've just been thinking a lot lately, about stuff I don't have totally sorted out right now, and that I don't have time to sort out right now because i have to leave for class.

We tell people they are “strong” when we are uncomfortable with their pain and would prefer that they shut up and not bother us with it. To say “but you are strong” is telling someone “I don’t think you should feel that way,” and it’s not a compliment. I don’t think that strength means being invulnerable, or pretending that you are. The belief that silence and stoicism are inherently good qualities is how you end up dressed up like a bat punching criminals in an alley – it’s not a good road to emotional health.
[…]
Be sad. Be angry. Let your heart break – in the diner, on someone’s futon, in the park, on the way to the zoo, at brunch, over drinks, in the therapist’s office, on the bus – Wherever it breaks, let it break all the way open, let it run out and down and spread out in a soggy puddle at your feet. Say, “I’m sorry, I can’t listen to you today, my heart is broken. Will you sit with me a while and I’ll tell you about it?“

Say, “I can’t take care of you today, but you can take care of me, and maybe tomorrow I will take care of you, and we can trade off like that for a while, okay?”

Say, “I love you, and I love that you think I’m strong, but I don’t feel like being strong today. I feel like being angry and crazy and sad. Can we go to the movies or just sit here quietly or take a walk or talk about it or not talk about it?“
Your friends may get scared when you do this. If you, the “strong” one can break, what does that say about them? That’s why they push back at you and try to remind you of your strength, when what you need is for them to stand by you in your pain and weakness. They don’t have to solve that pain, they just have to bear witness to it. Maybe they don’t know how – a lot of people don’t know what to do in the face of other people’s pain. They want to fix everything, and if they can’t fix it they feel inadequate. As the “strong” one you can help them out with this by saying “You don’t have to fix it. You don’t have to do anything. Just be with me, and listen, and love me, and I’ll love you back. That’s all I need – to know that you love me, even when I’m sad and scared and don’t know what to do next

The Purple Heart

Today was blood work day.
While most teenagers my age were checking into school, sitting through lectures and doing questions, I was on my way to the lab.
Most of the time I'm ok with this life, ok with having to miss school to go to the lab (Ok, I'm totally ok with the missing school part, just not sure about the lab part.)
While most teenagers my age were having conversations with friends and teachers, I was talking with my favorite lab techs.
I'm ok with that too, ok with the fact that I now know lab techs at that hospital better then I know the teachers at my school.
I was cold, so they wrapped me up in warm blankets. They tried different needles, different arms, different veins. 7 pokes later, the finally got blood, from a vein in my left hand.
Currently I'm sporting 3 Barbie Band-aids, one on each arm and one on my hand. In less then an hour I'm going to class, with other, normal teenagers who didn't spent the morning getting poked with needles and catching up with those lab techs you (usually) only see once every 3 months.
This is my life. It's mine, and today it's good. Today instead of making me feel different, it makes me feel special. It makes me feel like I have this secret and it's bubbling up inside of me.
Days like this are the ones I want to hold on to. These are the good days, the days when my 2 worlds seem to blend seamlessly, when I feel special instead of sick. These are the good days, and I want to hold on to them as long as I can.
I wear my band aids like a purple heart, something I am proud of more then I am ashamed of it.

 "Nobody goes into battle wanting to win a purple heart. You do the right thing, and sometimes it gets you a medal and sometimes it gets you killed"

Embracing the Inner Sexy Sick Girl

For Invisible Illness Awareness Week, I had great plans. I was going to blog every single day of the week, I was going to raise awareness for invsible illnesses, not just my own. I was going to do it all...
And then I got diagnosed, which added a whole new level to the emotional/physical/mental stress I was dealing with, and then I managed to catch a cold.

Being diagnosed with a chronic illness changes your life. I never expected it to change mine so much. I've been sick forever, I'm prepared for this, getting diagnosed is going to be more of a relief then a burden for me. I didn't know how wrong I was.
I do agree that, yes, since I was sick before, I think the diagnosis is easier for me. I know a friend who's little boy is being tested for diabetes. He's never been sick before, he isn't already introduced to needle pokes and doctor's visits. In this way, I think I have a leg up, as I was already introduced to needle pokes and doctors and tests.
But in many other ways, I never expected my life to change like it did (Which also means I never expected to feel the way I do.)
I feel consumed by the medical world. I feel like while my friends have been turning in papers for classes and working jobs, I have been on the phone with doctors, researching new treatment plans, and trying to stay afloat with all the emotions that come along with it, struggling just to keep my head above water. I feel like I don't belong with them anymore, simply because I'm not the same girl anymore.
My life is in two sections now: Living my life to the fullest despite being sick, and raising awareness for chronic illnesses like mine and embracing the sick side of me. (I was actually talking to my friend the other day, and when I told her I was going to have to start taking cornstarch in class, the conversation was something along the lines of: "You're going to have to start embracing your inner sexy sick girl.")
Embracing my inner sexy sick girl is something I find hard to do. I either lean too far towards living a normal life, so far that I fall right out the door, and end up doing all those things I know I shouldn't do and paying for it later. Either that or I lean so far into being sick that I throw a pity party, and complain A LOT.
I remember when we were in Vegas, one guy said to me, "You can either live your life or live your disease," And I'm still trying to figure out what that means. How do I live my life and not let myself go off the deep end and ignore the things I need to do for my health? How do I manage my conditions and still manage to have a life?
I wish I had the answers to all these questions, but I haven't quite figured that out yet. One day soon, I hope, I will figure out this ideal balance, how to embrace who I am as a person and my inner sexy sick girl.

Resilient

I was writing a letter today to a friend of mine. It was just silly notes, scribblings in an old notebook, but I came across a very interesting surprise.
My friend is amazing. Only after having one conversation, I knew we were going to be close. And we are. We're kindred spirits. My friend has gone through a lot. Our stories are so wierdly similar it's crazy.
I was writing this letter, and I was writing it for both of us. I wrote that people like us, we've been handed everything. Every little blow, it seems to happen to people like us. You know the kind of people I'm talking about? The ones that seem like, when you hear their story you wonder, "How the heck did they survive ALL that?"
Yeah, there's a special club for people like us, and you're not in it 'till you're in it. You can try to understand, and sympathize, but until you feel that loss...
I was thinking, about her, and about me, and I was thinking we've lost a lot. And then, I came to this realization: "We've had the worst crap happen to us. But we overcame it, and we continue to overcome it. We're resilient."
It took me a minute to realize that I was talking about myself too. My friend, yeah, she's resilient. But me... well it's harder to see that.

re·sil·ient

adj.

1. Marked by the ability to recover readily, as from misfortune.

2. Capable of returning to an original shape or position, as after having been compressed

 

I paused for a moment. My letter stopped there. Resilient. The word resounded in my head like an echoing chorus.

I want to ask the question, "Really, me? Me, who can't seem to get it right, and who feels like she's failing at a lot, and who is unsure about where the future is taking her and feels so incredibly messed up? You sure you're talking about that girl?"

And then the silent whisper answers back - the whisper that is both myself and not me- saying, yes.

Yes you, because you got out of bed this morning. Yes you, because you are still here, still breathing, still hoping, still encouraging, still loving.

You, you are resilient too. You are still here, still feeling and breathing and being alive. You, and me, we're resilient.

 

 "You can get over a bad childhood. You can have the worst crap in the world happen to you. You can get over it. All you gotta do is survive"

Sooner or Later I'm going to make it

Can I tell you how many times I've tried to write this post, and how many times I've erased everything I've written?
As I read back through my blog entries (I went back as far as this Spring) I wanted to cry. I've noticed how things have changed, and looking through my writings I can see how every post fit with the place I was in. Even when my blog entry had no mention to what I was going through in life, I could see it there, hidden between the lines, winking at me.
I've tried writing about my life, and it just wasn't happening. If I try to tell you where I'm heading, that's not going to happen either. But I can write about right now.
Right now, the house is quiet, and I'm sitting alone at the kitchen table, the only sound being that of my fingers hitting the keys.
I feel like I have nothing to write about, like I lost all honesty and boldness and the ability to actually say something worth reading.
I'm going to be ok, though. This long period, of losing my words, it's been good for me. Good, and also very frustrating.
Sooner or later, I am going to make it. I am going to find my voice again, and find out how to say everything that I am holding so tightly up against my chest.
Sooner or later, I am going to figure out this thing. I'm working on it, I am.
Sooner or later, I am going to make it.

Like a rocksong

Rock songs aren't pretty. They aren't the lullaby melody that is found in soft songs, and they aren't the get up and dance stuff that you find blaring from the headphones of every tween in america. It's eccentric, a little bit sexy and a little bit like broken glass, a little bit rough, like all the sound is being wrung out.
I, for one, am in love with rock music. It actually makes me sleepy (Which I've heard is kind of wierd.) I have this whole playlist on my Ipod called Anger management, and it's full of rock songs. Not like heavy metal, shrieking loud rock songs, just rock songs, a little rough around the edges, a little loud, a little bit like broken glass, a lot eccentric.
Sometimes you have to let the wild thing inside of you grow wings and go be whatever it wants to be.

I think I'm like a rock song. A bit eccentric, a bit wild and untamable, a bit rough around the edges, a bit like broken glass. It's not pretty, not soft spoken lullaby's or dance music blasting through speakers. It's all being wrung out.
 I think it's that tension that makes the song so beautiful.

It's the unbridled emotion that resides within the rock song, the rough around the edges genuine personality and flavor. I think the rock song isn't taming itself to become more graceful like the lullaby or more catchy like the pop song.

Rock songs contain fierceness, so raw and real and strange. In the song there's this story that is dying to be told, an uncontainable mystery.

I'm like a rock song, as these words are being played that are so fierce and raw and like broken glass. Ever notice how, when a musician is playing a song, he leans over the guitar, as if protecting the very notes that come from the most broken places within him, the place where music is born? It's like that, as I am leaning over in an effort to protect this song and to protect my heart.
My song isn't clean cut and all in a row. It's the frantic wail of a rock song, the loud pulsing beat, the thrashing and crying and howling and brokenness.

It's not perfect, or catchy, or easy. It's heart breakingly painful and raw and rough, eccentric like broken glass. It's a rock song, and it's me.

This is my rock song, real and alive, not defined or clean cut, but edgy and raw. It's wild and untamable. I don't want to spend my life holding in this rock song that isn't pretty or neat. I want to find these rock song chords that make up my melody, that hold in them all the passion and emotion, all the fierceness and brokenness that is within me.
I'm going to learn how to play my rocksong, how to let free all this fierceness, this noise that is eccentric like broken glass. Because it's the tension that makes the song so beautiful. It's the raw, real pain that makes it worth listening to.

I'm like a rock song. And I am going to find the chords of this song, and play the notes. I am going to set free this wild thing inside of me and let it find words and notes and let this eccentric broken glass become the echoes of a rock song.

Italics from You're more like a rocksong and lean in again and let it go by Natalie Lloyd

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...

The Mermaid...

We've been without internet now for 5 days. It feels like so much life has happened, but then again like nothing has changed. Life is been... wierd lately. I really don't know how else to describe it. It's almost like being at the center of a hurricane, and you can see the storm, and you know it's there, and you know that what's coming next could make or break you, but you're not scared. It's like being at the center of this storm and even though the world is shifting under my feet and everything I know is changing, I'm ok. Maybe it's like being underwater, where you can see the surface and feel the tide pulling you under, but you're in that place between waking and sleeping where everything is foggy and a little confusing, but still.

I know maybe I should start to panic, to start thrashing and frantically trying to pull my heavy body up to break the surface. Maybe I should start fighting again. But I'm tired of fighting and all I want to do is stay here in this blissful underwater fog, where it's still and even though the storm is whirling around me, I'm ok. Maybe after fighting for so long and trying to resist giving in, you just get tired, and sink into acceptance.

I feel like a mermaid, sinking and swimming at the same time.

Exams and Gypsy's

I'm knee deep in midterms. It's an average occurance in the life of a high schooler, I guess, but I have to think there's a better way to test a student's knowledge on the course then to sit them down in a room, hand them a stack of papers full of questions and tell them they only have 2 and a half hours (In my case anyway) to complete this exam, and this test will make up 30% of their final grade. It's a nerve wracking experience. I'm done 2 out of 3 exams (My last one is tomorrow) and passed them both, which is great. The 2 I've already submitted, they were submitted through a program called quizstar which grades it immediatly. So I entered my answers, paced the floor, took a deep breath, put my finger on the submit button but didn't press it until I was turned away from the computer. I pressed submit, walked away, then came back. My heart was racing and I was so nervous and then... the moment of truth. I passed both exams, but the nervous feeling I experienced before I pressed submit is something I don't really like.

In other news, our house sold. Yep, we're moving again. I can go back in my blog history and find the entry in which I wrote about our coming to THIS house. But now we're moving again, at least that's how it's looking. I almost feel like somebody should start calling me a gypsy because we've moved every 2 years since I was born. Maybe that's a good thing, because for all my life I've been forced to think of home as people, not as a place.

One more thing before my study fried brain decides to shut down. Remember a while ago when I posted that video of the girl after her endoscopy? (If not, you can check it out here.) That girl has a blog called chronicles of the chronically ill, which I've been following, and loving. She takes the words right out of my mouth when it comes to describing the life of someone with a chronic illness. As most of you probably know by now, I love sharing links to posts that inspire me, make me think or just posts that I love. So if you have time, check out this post.

What I'm Lovin'

• I love wearing high heels, because they make me feel like Addison Montgomery


• I love anything that smells good.


• I discovered I love pottery. I'm not a real artsy person in that sense of the word. My favorite form of art is the kind I make when I put a pen to paper. But I went to my first pottery class today and had a blast. I made a cup. I got to throw lumps of clay really hard. it was fun :)


• I love my friends, probably more then they even know. I love spending Saturday nights/ Sunday Mornings with them. I love watching movies and wasting hours in Superstore. So yeah, I love my friends.


• I love when I get good grades on a test I barely studied for.


• I love wasting hours in the most magical place on earth, the library. I love smelling the books (Don't judge me!) and buying a scone and a water and sitting and watching people.


• I love afternoon naps. Even though during these wonderful events one of the biggest lies I tell myself arises. "I'm not going to fall asleep. I'll just lay here, and close my eyes, and rest my head on this pillow." Yeah right, we all know I am going to fall asleep


• I love the comfort and peace that I have as I walk into these next few days, into the dark unknown.

How Have You Seen God?

Almost every day that I was on the missions trip, and now that I have joined Ministry Team, my youth pastor always asks us one question, "How have you seen God today?"

On the Missions trip, I got into the habit of daily writing down how I saw God that day. Sometimes it would be something simple, something scrawled in my messy handwriting as I tried to document the day's events before I fell asleep. Sometimes I was more creative, using great detail to describe what had happened. No matter how I wrote it, I always wrote how I saw God.

That question has been coming into my head lately more often then not. And more often then not, I have a list of answers. My relationship with my Heavenly Father has become more tender as of lately. I'm having those realizations moments, the moment when I realize something I either didn't know before, or knew but didn't get. I'm hearing His voice as He whispers into my soul. I'm taking His hand and blindly following Him into the great unknown, trusting that even if I don't know, He does. Maybe it took me being helpless, for God to show me that He was able. I've had 2 prayers over the last week or so that seem to be repeated. Over and over I whisper these words, begging God to answer. One of those prayers, the one I have already seen being answered is this... "Break my heart for what breaks yours." It was not that long after I had found out about Sadie. I had all these feelings stuffed inside, of helplessness. I was choosing the role of a victim of childhood disease, one I knew how to play well, rather then the role of helping my hurting friend. I didn't want to be this person anymore, the person who knows what it's like to have your childhood stolen from you, this person who knows the grim reality of fighting a childhood disease. So I prayed, asking God to break my heart... for what breaks His. and He did. He softened my heart and showed me that it was ok to not know. I was in uncharted waters, I'd never been in this position before, watching the sickness go on without me. He showed me that it's breaking His heart to see little Sadie suffer, and that it also is breaking His heart to see me suffer. And I think that this heart break I'm feeling is only a fraction of what God must feel, when He see's us hurting. I think if I were fully able to experience the kind of pain God feels when we are suffering, I would be floored, paralyzed with grief. I don't think I could comprehend the kind of pain God feels, when He sees His children hurting.

The second prayer I prayed this week was this "God, hold what I can't." I prayed, and still am praying, this prayer at a time of helplessness. I asked God to hold together what I couldn't. I asked Him to hold Sadie, and her family. I asked Him to hold my best friend. I asked Him to hold me, to hold me as I walk through the Valley of the Shadow of Death. Because I am helpless in this position, but God is able.

So Now I ask you this question that my youth pastor asks me, "How have you seen God today?"

Is He there, rejoicing with You? Is His Peace evident in these rough waters? Or is it simply the quiet recognition that Yes, even now, He is here?

HELD

As you probably know, recently I've developed an obsession for pinterest. (That's where the picture on the left is from.) Anyway, I think this picture just fits with me, and my life currently. It's so true. I am strong, I know that. I've been through more things then most people have to go through in their life time. But here's the thing, I don't always want to be strong. Sometimes, like the picture says, I do just want to be held and have someone tell me that it will be ok.

With Hands lifted and my face turned up to the heavens, I whisper my heart felt prayer, "Father, Hold me. I'm broken and bleeding and hurting, and I just need you to hold me."

“He will cover you with His feathers, and under His wings you will find refuge” (Psalm 91:4).




Recently, I was interviewed over at my friend's blog, Glittering Compositions.
Wanna check out the interview, and her blog? Click here http://glitteringcompositions.blogspot.com/2011/09/chat-with-lovely-alisha.html

Dear Little Girl Me

Ever have those moments when it seems like everything is happening too fast? Like blink and you'll miss years of your life? I know parents are supposed to feel that way as they watch their kids grow up, but do you ever feel like that? I know I do. I'm feeling like that right now, that when I blink again I'll be all grown up and heading off to college and starting a family of my own. And it'll all be over, all of this. It seems like not that long ago there I was, a little girl, waiting on this day, the day that I would finally be a teenager. I remember I practiced for it. My and my best friend, we would dress up, I wore a lovely dalmation spotted coat, and we would walk down the street and imagine what life would be like when we were finally here. We would imagine the boys we would date, the clothes we would wear, the cars we would drive. But we didn't know that teenagers didn't play house on the dirt hill after school. We didn't know that when you got to this place, these teenage years, everything would be so different then you'd imagined it being. Instead of dating and turning heads of all the guys in the building, you'd be sitting there, longing for the guy you have a crush on to just look at you and smile. Instead of wearing all the cool clothes, you would wear tee shirts and jeans, because you could totally break your ankle in heels. Instead of driving around that cool convertable, you would be sitting behind the wheel of your mom's SUV, scared to death, afraid that one wrong move would send you over the cliff. We didn't know that when we where little because teenagers were these people that could do no wrong, they were these idols. And now we're here. Now we're at the place where nothing is as simple as it used to be. Looking back, it seems like everything has happened so fast. I'm not that little girl anymore, I'm the teenager that little girl always wanted to be. But it's not at all like I thought it would be and sometimes I just want to curl up beneath the covers and close my eyes and bring that little girl back. I just want to play house on that dirt hill after school. I just want to go back, to be that carefree little girl again. Because everything is changing so fast and I just want to put on the brakes and say "Stop!" I'm not ready to be this teenager who drives and has responsibilities and cares more then she would like to admit about how she looks or boys. I want to go back, but no matter how much I want to freeze time it's not going to happen. No matter how much I wish I could just stay here forever, never get older, I know that something amazing is waiting for me just over the horizon, in the short time it will take me to fully 'grow up.' And that no matter how fast this ride is going and no matter how much I want it to stop, it's here now and if I blink I just might miss everything that may have been importent to me, all these memories. This is who the little girl has become. This is the teenager the little girl imagined herself as. She's not coordinated or a beauty queen. She doesn't turn the heads of every guy or drive a cool car or wear cool clothes. But she has everything she needs. She has friends and family who love her, even when she's clumsy and crazy. Somehow, all those other things little girl me wanted don't seem so importent anymore. Sure, I still care about how I look or about catching the attention of that oh-so-lovely boy sitting across the room, but that's not 'it.' So, my dear little girl self, I may not have everything you wanted me to have, but I have everything I need. I may not be able to stop time but I can enjoy every single minute of this amazing ride. Somehow, I think you would be proud of the young woman you became.

'I've apparently been the victim of growing up, which apparently happens to all of us at one point or another. It's been going on for quite some time now, without me knowing it. I've found that growing up can mean a lot of things. For me, it doesn't mean I should become somebody completely new and stop loving the things I used to love. It means I've just added more things to my list'

Moments...

Do you ever wonder what other people are doing when your life is falling apart? I thought about that, when I was laying in the hospital Sunday night/Monday morning. Then, I reversed it. What was I doing when someone else's world is falling apart. I got an email from my best friend today, and her little cousin is sick and may need chemo. What was I doing when she got the news? It's wierd to think about what I was doing when other people's lives changed, maybe forever. It's wierd for me to think about. And if you change it around again, what were you doing when people got the best news of their lives? Maybe you were there, just a person in the backround of a picture. Maybe you were having your own worst moment. It's funny to think about how one person's worst day could be another person's best day.

You ever look at a picture of yourself and see a stranger in the background? It makes you wonder how many strangers have pictures of you. How many moments of other people's lives we've been in. Were we a part of a stranger's life when their dream came true? Or were we there when their dreams died? Did we keep trying to get in - as if we were destined to be there? Or did the shot take us by surprise? Just think, you could be a big part of someone else's life and not even know it

The Scar

I'm walking out the door to go see the doctor and get blood taken in under an hour. I'm getting kind of tired of posting every day, so maybe I'll do only every other day. I had a wierd freak out last night about it being the first of June. June means summer. June sounds like it's *so close* to when we leave on the missions trip, even though that's not until July.

Check out this video. It's become one of my favorites in the past little while. It's of Paige Armstrong (The girl in the picture.)She's a singer/song writer/ soon to be author who had a life threatening cancer when she was 11. She had a wish granted by the make a wish foundation and wished to record a CD. So watch this video and maybe you'll be as inspired as I am by this amazing young woman.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9ss14pKx9to

His Power is Made Perfect in my Weakness

Last night I made this comment to one of my friend's "Glad it's you and not me." He is spending today at the hospital getting lots of tests done. Even though I wished he didn't have to go through that, I was sort of glad it wasn't me. Well, today those words came back to bite me. Tomorrow, I have a doctor's appointment. Most likely blood work and who know's what else. on Thursday (At like 8 in the morning) I have an ultrasound. I'm trying not to laugh at the irony of it all, because tomorrow (and the day after) it will be me. The hospital (oops, the doctors office AT the hospital) called this morning. They scheduled the ultrasound and then they put in a referal for an urgent appointment with the GI. No idea when that's gonna be yet, but considering that they put urgent on it, it could be soon. I'm relieved that they are doing something about it, like getting me in to see the GI and running all these tests and such, but then comes the dread that "Oh great, I gotta get more tests done now." I'm happy I'm getting them, just so then maybe they can find out what's wrong with me, but really, who likes getting stabbed with needles and getting an ultrasound wand thing jabbed into their stomach? I have to keep believing that all these tests will show something, that all this discomfort and pain and whatever else they put me through won't be for nothing, that they will figure this out and make me better.

'Three times I pleaded with the Lord to take it away from me. But he said to me, “My grace is sufficient for you, for my power is made perfect in weakness.” Therefore I will boast all the more gladly about my weaknesses, so that Christ’s power may rest on me. That is why, for Christ’s sake, I delight in weaknesses, in insults, in hardships, in persecutions, in difficulties. For when I am weak, then I am strong.'
2 Corinthians 12: 8-10

Little Bits

I'm just a little bit torn today. Just a little bit upset with myself, just a little bit upset with life, just a little bit needy. I'm just a little bit hurt and just a little bit happy. Just a little bit peaceful, a little bit content, and a little bit anxious. I'm a little bit wanting and a little bit giving and a little bit hoping. A little bit sick and a little bit hurting but a little bit trying and a little bit fighting.
I'm full of little bits right now. I'm a little bit of everything today. All these little bits, all crammed together in my body, fighting for space, for time, for thought. Each little bit is screaming, their little tiny hands raised, their cries echoing "Pick me, pick me." For a moment, I do. I don't mean to, but absentmindedly I pick the one that is the loudest, the one whose hand is raised the highest, the one who is yipping and snapping at my heels for attention. For a moment, I pet that little thing, letting it curl up in my lap. I think about whatever that little bit is, think about the circumstance that made me feel that way or the things I'm wanting or needing or hoping for. It seems the happy little bits, the content little bits and the peaceful little bits are the quietest. They are the one's in the back, politely waiting for their turn to be remembered. So today, I'm gonna choose. Just for a little while, I am gonna go to the back of the pack and pick up the happy piece, the content piece, the peaceful piece. I'm going to let them bring back the memories they hold and smile. Just for a little while, I am going to ignore those other pieces, the pieces screaming for my attention and snapping at me heels, and I am going to sit at the back of the pack with Happy, Content and Peace. Just for a little while...

Best Friend Promises

Just finished having a 'virtual coffee time' with my best friend. It was good talking. And I didn't realize how much I missed her until we started talking. Now I wish she was here so we could really talk. We talked about the future, and how time goes by so fast. We've known each other since Kindergarten. and now we're in high school. Thinking about college and getting married and starting our own families. Somewhere along the line we grew up? When did that happen? I'm lucky to have a best friend like her. It was funny how, even though we're so far apart, we were thinking about some of the very same things. We're not little girls anymore, being there and dreaming of now. we're here, and somehow it's not like we imagined. Our conversations aren't about those little girl things anymore. they're about college and marriage and families and growing up and those days when we were little without a care in the world. When did that change? Life is an awfully cold place to not have a best friend. and I'm honored and blessed to have a best friend like mine. You're making me cry now, Cai, good job! :) Things changed and we both grew up. And somehow we're still connected. Our conversations have changed and we're taller, but we're still the same forever friends. Thanks, Cai, for being my best friend. Life would be awfully lonely without you. You get me. We're connected. And throughout the years, we've managed to stay that way. You're my best friend, and I hope it stays that way. As we grow up and really do go to college and get married and have our own families. I hope we always stay connected at the heart.

Beauty from Pain

I was watching some old home movies today. I was watching them, and watching me, but it was like I was watching someone else. I was watching me, watching the easy way I was talking about being sick a lot and being in the hospital a lot. and it was like I was watching someone else. I know that I was watching me. But it was like I wasn't. I wasn't connecting the two, even though it's the same person. I was watching me, and my heart was breaking for this little girl who so easily talked about being sick. No little kid should talk so easily about being sick. About being in the hospitals so much and being sick lots. I was watching her/me, and I was hurting for her. I didn't want her to have to live like that, not when she was so young. I was hurting for her, because she was so little, and she should just get to be a kid. She shouldn't be talking so easily about being sick. I was watching her/me, and thinking it wasn't fair. And then, something clicked, and I realized that the little girl was me. I realized that the girl who was talking so easily about sickness and hospitals, was me. This girl who was having to deal with being sick when she should just be dealing with being a kid, was me. And my heart was breaking for her. I realized, watching little me, that a lot of people would say the same things about me right now. I should just be dealing with being a teenager. Not being sick. Not doctors and tests and constantly being aware. Lots of people would say that I'm too young for that. and maybe I am. But it feels normal to me. A little girl, a teenager, having to worry about being sick. ALL THE TIME. that's not fair, is it? It doesn't seem fair. I'm too young. That girl in the home movies is too young. It's not fair. But who said this world was fair? Growing up sick, as unfair as it is, has taught me so much, given me so much. It has taught me that I'm stronger then I know. It has taught me that the only limits I have are the one's I set for myself. It's showed me who I am. I've questioned God, and seen miracles. I've met so many people I would have never met otherwise. I've grown and changed, and learned that every single day counts, because it could be your last. I've learned, and am still learning, to never take anything for granted. I've learned what's importent in life. I've seen God's power in very real ways. And I know, that in the times when I can't deal with this anymore, that God's grace is enough for me. He'll be strong when I can't. He'll hold me when I can no longer stand. I've learned so much. So, as unfair as it all is, with all the times I just want to be normal, with all the times I don't want to have to be strong anymore, even with all of that, I wouldn't trade it. Because when I focus on the blessings and the opportunities, I don't think I would change a thing. I have seen Beauty rise from Pain