Esophagogastroduodenoscopy

That's a REALLY long word for the procedure I had done this morning. It almost takes as long to say as it did for them to do. In lay man's terms, a doctor looked at my esophagus, stomach, and duodenum (the first part of the small intestine) to see if there was anything wrong with them. And the news is . . . there wasn't. They all look perfectly healthy. I even got pictures. Unfortunately, I can't put them here for your to enjoy, as I don't have any way to scan them in. :( I know you will all be very depressed about that. :D
It was kind of cool to be put under this time. This was a procedure that I had no desire to be awake for, although I wouldn't have minded watching the video, as they stuffed a tube down my throat. That would have been very uncomfortable to be awake for. It was kind of funny when the nurse asked me if I wanted a warm blanket to help calm my nerves. I guess most people would be nervous about that, but I wasn't even nervous when I was actually getting surgery, so this was absolutely nothing. She gave me a warm blanket anyway, which I appreciated, since I was actually colder than I thought I was.
So I've spent the day sitting around being really lazy since I wasn't allowed to drive anywhere for twenty four hours. The ironic part is that they also suggest that you don't make any important decisions or sign legal documents for twenty four hours either, but I'm actually more awake now than I was at 0730 this morning when they were having me sign legal documents. How's that?
So that's my excitement for the day (or month, really). Good times.

Live like you were dying

I watched the movie Return With Honor today, and it inspired some questions. The premise of the movie is that one the way home from his mission, a young man gets into a fatal car accident and is sent back with 60 days left. Then the movie shows what he does with those 60 days.
But it brought about the question - what would I do if I knew I only had 60 days left to live? What would I do with that time? And the answer is . . . I have absolutely no idea. I know I'd make sure everyone knew how much I loved them. But what would I do? How would I want my legacy in this world to end?
And of course, this always brings up the thought - no one knows when they are going to die. I may die tomorrow, or I may live to be 90 years old so I can complain about every little thing like my residents. But what if I die tomorrow? Will I have any regrets? Will I be ready? Will I have left anything unsaid that desperately needed to be said? Will I leave this life with enemies that I could have made up with? How would the world take the news of my death?
I love at the end of Return With Honor (this isn't really giving anything away, you might just think it is), Rowe (the RM) calls up his best friend and asks him to come over early in the morning, before his mother wakes up, so that she's not alone when she finds her son's body. Would I be so considerate that I was putting everyone else needs before my own, or would I simply be nervous beyond anything and just be waiting for death to come for me? I'd like to think that I'd be thinking of others.
Anyway, those are my thoughts today. Anyone else want to put in some?

Christmas is coming

You know, as Christmas looms nearer, I'm actually surprised at how much I don't want for Christmas this year. I have been asked by a few friends what I wanted, and I haven't been able to give them a good answer. Anyone who knows me well, knows that a book is always a safe bet, but I really don't care if I don't get anything from anyone except my parents this year. (My parents are giving me a very special present that I've waited a year to get) A guy mentioned in his talk about how, when you're on your mission, you don't really want anything for Christmas. While I never had a Christmas out in the field, it did remind me of my birthday out there. My companion asked me what I wanted for my birthday and honestly, the only thing I wanted was a new investigator. I can't remember who we were meeting with at the time, but I wanted them to progress, to find the truth. I do remember that we did, indeed, get a new investigator that day. And I had the most amazing dinner. This was at the time I thought I had Celiac (which, by the way, I do not), and there was a family in the Hershey ward that had two sons on gluten free diets. They made a most wonderful dinner and every single thing on the table was gluten free. They even made me a cake. But the part I remember the most is that I made myself a cake the night before and realized that I hadn't bought anything to make icing with when we had gone shopping the previous preparation day. Well, of course, we didn't have time to make a stop at the store in the middle of the week, so it looked as though I was doomed to have no icing. But I told Sister Bastian that if it was okay with Heavenly Father for me to have icing for my birthday cake, He would somehow provide some. She laughed and we went through the day. After dinner, Sister Hopkins asked us if we wanted to take some icing home, since she had somehow made twice as much as she had needed. Sister Bastian and I looked at each other, our eyes slightly wide. When questioned, Sister Bastian explained what I had said earlier that day. That was my biggest birthday present. A firmer testimony that Heavenly Father knows each one of us and nothing is to small for him to care about. I would have been fine without that icing. But I wanted some. And a loving Father, who saw no ill effects of me getting icing for my birthday, provided it for me. That's what I want for Christmas. A stronger testimony and the knowledge that others are getting what they want. That, this Christmas, would mean more to me than a hundred presents wrapped beneath the tree.

Cross my fingers and hope to move!

I had my job interview for the job with Princess Tours today and have another one scheduled for tomorrow. I'm thoroughly excited and honestly just got more excited the more he told me about it. I applied in Anchorage, which it sounds like is sort of the central hub for the Alaska section. As a bus driver, I may get the opportunity to go to the other resorts for a sort time as well, since one of them is 400 miles away, and I don't know how far the others are. I can't believe I'm going to be driving a greyhound type bus. Can you see me handling that large of a vehicle? I'm used to Freya, who's, quite frankly, fairly small. I can't wait. My mom says I have to get my stomach problems under control or I can't go (which is completely understandable), but I really think I've just got an ulcer. I haven't had too bad of pain since Sunday, and I discovered that day that milk (which is an antacid) helps immensely. Which leads me to believe that it's an ulcer. So, I should have it fixed by the time I leave, and have no problems. I will, of course, have to continue to take antacids every day (maybe even more than one time per day), but as long as I do that, and avoid incredibly acidic foods (like onions! :'( sniff), I should be just fine. In a jam, I can always toss back a teaspoon of vinegar, which has, for some odd reason, really helped in the past. I'm not sure why though. Weird.
So that's my latest news. Now I just have to figure out how to fit my entire life into my tiny little car. What can I take, and what do I have to leave home? We'll find out.

What to do?

So, sorry about my last post. I hope no one minded my ranting. It was a little whiny, wasn't it? Oh well.
I went to TKD again tonight. Everyone was excited to see me back after having been gone for two weeks. The problem is, I'm contemplating quitting until October. I've got a job interview tomorrow for the Alaska job and if I get that, I'm going to need all the money I can get so that I can pay for my trip up there and first month of rent and deposit on my apartment. If I continue TKD, I'm out $300 by April. That's almost enough for the whole deposit right there. Or at least to pay for the trip up there. I'm planning on stopping in Gaston, Oregon to visit my MTC companion, then Forks, Washington - just because it's on the way and I CAN! Then, if she'll let me, spend a few days in Victoria and Vancouver, Canada with another former companion (I haven't had a chance to talk to her about it, as she doesn't get home until next week). So I have to get a passport, which will cost $100 by itself, and pay for the trip, at the very least! I just don't think I can spend any money I don't absolutely have to.
The problem is, I don't know if this is me being logical and sacrificing something I want for something I want more. . . Or if it's just the depression talking, trying to make me sit on my butt al day long crocheting or embroidering. TKD is good for me, and when I first started I was having a lot of fun. But tonight, I didn't so much. And then the heater kicked on, and I don't know WHAT it was, but something sturred in the air, filling the room with some sort of fragrance and effectively making it so I couldn't breathe. Do you have any idea how difficult it is to do kicks when you can't breathe? Even when they turned the heater off, the damage had been done, the headache was beginning, and I felt sick to my stomach. Typical reaction to a fragrance I'm allergic to. I hate allergies.
So that's my story. Any suggestion, advice, or even degrading remarks are welcomed.

What the heck?

I have not, as of late, been feeling very well. I finally called the doctor yesterday and got in last night. Why it took me so long to call was because it is just the same pain as I've had for five years. Except it seems to be coming back with an even harder vengeance than before. I hate going to the doctor and not being able to really tell him anything other than "I know there's something wrong with me, I just don't know what". It's getting tedious. Generally, when I go and see him, the pain happens to be gone and no matter where he pushes, it doesn't hurt. Which doesn't help him with his diagnostic. Fortunately (or unfortunately for my stomach) the pain came back while I was waiting in the lobby. It hurt, but at least he was able to make a diagnostic. And it was . . . IBS. Can you believe that? I hate that diagnostic. My aunt just went through a whole slew of tests for them to finally decide that's what was wrong with here. But basically, that's just a fancy way of saying "Sorry, we have absolutely no idea what's wrong with you. Take in more fiber and if you notice something makes the pain worse, don't eat it." Wow. Thanks for that. I never would have thought to not eat something if it hurts to eat it! How amazing! I can't complain too bad, though, he did give me something for the abdominal pain I've been having, which feels like a knife right below my sternum. You know, where you'd do the Heimlich maneuver? He decided that was muscle pain, and prescribed some Levsin, which you're supposed to let dissolve under your tongue, but tastes absolutely nasty. When I saw on the instructions that it would be chewed or swallowed as well, I quickly took the swallowing route. He also gave me an antacid, to see if it helps, because if it does, it might be an ulcer, and we'll probably be adding an additional antidepressant because the one I'm taking now isn't enough or something. I'm still having problems concentrating and it's driving me NUTS. I've made more mistakes on the meds for the residents where I work in the last few weeks than I did the whole rest of the time I worked there. Being absent minded is one thing, but when it starts effecting other people's health, it's time to do something about it. Needless to say, with the vitamins I was already taking, and the pills he added, I'm taking more pills every morning than any of my residents except for one, and I'm catching up with her quick. They think that's pretty funny though. I'm glad someone's laughing at the situation. Now I just have to figure out what I get to learn from this. Because if there's one thing I know, it's that you always have something to learn from every situation. No exceptions.

Come What May, and Love It.

A beautiful Life is shown here today,
Full of trials, temptation, and pain.
A wonderful life is now on display,
Full of lightening and thunder and rain.

What makes life happy and joyful and good?
Not just the pain-free, cheerful times.
What makes life happy is misunderstood.
We need opposition in all it's rhymes.

The beauty of life would soon cease to be,
Without the bad things we seem to face.
We need all the sorrow so that we can see
With hard effort we'll win the race.

What helps us to learn to endure the pain?
What helps us to rise above it?
The answer is simple, we'll shout the refrain.
"Come What May, and Love it!"

This blog entry is dedicated to our recently passed on General Authority, Joseph B. Wirthlin. It was inspired by his last conference Talk, "Come What May, and Love It."
http://lds.org/conference/talk/display/0,5232,23-1-947-9,00.html

What is this thing that Men call Life?

How do you know when something is right or wrong? How do you know when doing something would be good for you or if you would regret it for the rest of your life? Or at least a few years. I wish I could get answers as definitively as I got the answer to go on a mission. Or the answer to come home. Those answers were so clear, it was easy to follow. The thing is, I'm not good at leaps of faith. I never have been. My goal when I left my mission was to have no fear and to just jump into things I want with all my heart, but so far it's just left me mangled on the ground. Some of those things have left me more mangled than others, but they've all left scars. I know that's life, and it happens to everyone, but do I really want to rush towards the things that will scar me? How do I know what will scar me? What if, while running from things that have scarred me, I run headlong into something that scars me even more (although, how that's possible, I'm not sure)?
Why can't I be who I want to be instead of who I've always been? I have an image in my head of who I want to be, but every time I seem get closer to her, I get yanked away by heartache or depression, or some such pain. I'm trying to be honest with myself, and look at myself indifferently, but that's seemingly impossible (how you can look at yourself indifferently, I don't know, which is probably part of the problem). What more can I do? I just feel lost within myself lately and don't know where to run.

The Provebial Roller Coaster

Nothing annoys me more than life coming at you all at once. First, we had thanksgiving, which actually went off a LOT better than I had anticipated, which I was thankful for. Then we had my all nighter at work, which was crazy. In between 6am Thursday morning and 11:30pm Friday night, I got a grand total of three hours of sleep. I'm amazed I was still functioning and polite at the end of them. Then Saturday, I was able to go to the Jordon River Temple to do and endowment session, which should have been AMAZING, but I couldn't get in the right spirit, no matter how much I tried (it didn't help that I was so tired I was falling asleep periodically). Sunday I had work, got off late, went home and crashed instead of going to church. Then yesterday, I had to call in sick at work and spent most of the day on the couch, watching TV. Halfway though the day, my ex-boyfriend called me up asking if he could come over and talk. I'll admit, I was nervous pretty much the rest of the day and that mixed with the cold I still have didn't make for a pleasurable day, no matter how much I was enjoying drooling over Gilbert Blythe. The talk went down fine, and I needn't have been nervous, but you always are. "I need to talk with you" are scary words. Anyway, today I've been feeling the roller coaster doing loops all over. I got to take an hour long shower a little while ago, which made me feel absolutely great! But no I'm coming down off of the high and I feel like I'm hitting yet another low - the kind I had when I wasn't taking anti-depressents. I really hope that the derpression isn't pushing through the medication, but it sure seems to be. It seemed to be working for a little while, but I can't feel it anymore. It might be that I really need to be meeting with my therapist, but she can't see me until January. Not so happy about that.
I hope no one minds my rant. Writing always seems to help, no matter where or what about. And since my books don't seem to be going anywhere, I'll write here.
I'm thinking about moving to Alaska this summer to get a job. I'd be gone from the beginning of May to the end of September. I'm a little hesitant, because I really want to be here for the midnight showing of Harry Potter, but I'm not fure that's enough to make me give this opportunity up. I think it would be very good for me. I need to get more of the particulars, but I am seriously considering it. The only question would be, am I going because I want to go? Or am I going because I don't want to be here anymore? Who knows?