the end of an era

Okay, I should have written something on this by now, but I haven't been able to get my thoughts aligned to anywhere where I felt like I could write something down about it.
Despite the shock and surprise I felt when I learned President Hinckley passes away, I felt it was right. He's been heading in this direction for awhile, and I think he knew it. I wouldn't put it past him to be excited for it. I know I'd be excited to go to heaven and see the love of my life again.
He will be sore missed. I am old enough that I was alive during one or two previous prophets' times, but young enough to not remember them. I have grown up in this church with President Hinckley at its head- under the direction of our Savior, Jesus Christ, of course.
He was described as "cute". It's true. He was very cute. Honestly, I don't think I could look at a picture of any other prophet or apostle, and think them as cute as Pres. Hinckley. Impressively, he had the ability to pull off being both "cute" and powerful at the same time.
Powerful, in the sense of- called by God, and ordained to act in His name for the sake of everyone on the Earth.
I'm grateful for his example, leadership, laughs, and love.
Gordon B. Hinckley was- and is- truly a great man.
I will miss him.

dear friends

I am grateful for friends that I can call up at odd hours. I am grateful that they listen to me as I just talk- trying to get all of the percolating thoughts to simmer. I am grateful for their feedback, their input, whether it be extensive or brief. Most of all, I'm grateful for the comfort they give me. For their spirits. For how these friends can uplift me by just being there for me. I am grateful for their friendship, their souls, and their love.

So, to you dear friends-

Thank you. I can not begin to express my appreciation. I can not begin to describe how you have left your stamp on me. You have changed me, and left me better for it.
For that you have both my gratitude, and my love.

he's a keeper

Laurie Edwards over at A Chronic Dose said the following in a recent post on Gratitude:

...I am especially grateful for a husband who anticipates my needs better than I do, who can tell by the tone of my voice how much air I am moving, and who brings the world to my doorstep when he knows I’m feeling isolated by illness.

The whole post was great, but that, especially, I thought was cool.

Having been in Young Womens' at church for 6 years now, I have given much thought to my "future eternal companion" (cue cheesy music). Both at the encouragement of leaders and of my own volition, I have made numerous lists over the years about the qualities I want in my future hubby. The earlier lists had a few more silly (or rather- irrelevant in the grand scheme of things) characteristics than the later ones. Overall they tend to go something like this:

-active in the church
-strong testimony
-temple worthy/can take me to the temple
-holds the priesthood
-will be a good father
-loves me
-respects me
-gets along w/ my family
...

...and so on.

What Laurie said about her husband... that struck me. He watches her closely. Knows her well. Loves her so deeply that he concerns himself with not just her needs, but her comforts.
That is the sort of love I want to have with my husband.
And I think I would be justified in not accepting anything less.

The bit about illness, "...[he] brings the world to my doorstep when he knows I’m feeling isolated by illness" I could identify with as well. I hope that by the time I am married, my health will be stabilized and the isolation that has come with my chronic illness will be resolved and no longer a worry.
But in the back of my head, I hear a whisper that I may find myself facing it more than once in life. If it winds up being the case that my health is stupid for longer than expected, then it will take a very special guy to be able to deal with that with me. He will have to be understanding- or be willing to learn-, and patient. Long-suffering, even. It would be a burden on him. One I hope he won't have to deal with, but he'd have to be willing to take it on if needed.
But wow... someone who would "[bring] the world to my doorstep when he knows I'm feeling isolated by illness"... that would be lovely indeed. He'd be a keeper.

zofran

In case you can't read it, it says:
U&C: $708.99
Pay: $10.00

Having insurance: priceless (well, sorta)

and my body lived happily ever after... but not yet

This is the essay I wrote to submit w/ my college applications. Since it deals w/ health, and whole host of other things which I either have addressed on this here blog, or would address, I figured that it may just be appropriate to stick the essay here. (btw, feedback is never a bad thing. *hint hint*)

I had my future all planned out when I was ten years old. I would graduate from high school with straight A’s and go on to the university my parents attended. I would graduate with honors, probably in “cat behaviorology”. I would then serve a mission for my church. Help troubled kitties. Get married. And maybe go on to cure cancer. I have since discovered that life rarely goes according to plan.

It was discovered in my eighth grade year that I struggled with both depression and anxiety. With the help of my mother, psychologist and medication, I learned how to assess my emotions and thoughts, to recognize those influenced by depression/anxiety, and slowly I was able to replace negative thought patterns with positive and healthy ones. I now consider my depression and anxiety to be under control. Neither bothers me frequently, and when one does I am able to recognize what is happening quickly and deal with it in an efficient and effective manner. As a result of this experience, I was able to relate to and help when people I knew struggle with mental illness.

It would seem that gaining an understanding of mental illness was not the only empathetic quality I was bound to develop. The spring of my sophomore year (2006) I began to be physically ill. I missed more and more school and extracurricular activities due to stomach pains, headaches, nausea, weakness, fatigue and other such vague but irritatingly interfering symptoms. My mother and I began to trot from doctor to doctor, trying to pin down a diagnosis. Multiple tests, scans, appointments and a few months later I was diagnosed with Irritable Bowel Syndrome (IBS). I was shocked. Pleased to have a diagnosis. Ecstatic that there was treatment. And comforted that all I endured was real and treatable- not just my imagination. I followed not quite, but almost, religiously my treatment routine, educated myself exhaustively on the functional disorder, and found my body back to nearly normal within the next few months (barring the occasional flare-up of symptoms).

I gained empathy for those suffering with chronic illness, for those who live with the fear that accompanies a “mystery diagnosis”, and for those whose lives consisted of medical appointments. I also developed a strong awareness of and gratitude for my health. I was more than ready to bounce back into challenging course loads at school, and busy days due to multiple extracurriculars. I was ready to move on, utilizing my new wisdom, and live my life just like all of the other over-achievers my age.

The spring of my junior year (2007) marked the beginning in a chronic change of health which made my experience the year prior seem a simple warm-up exercise. My IBS flared up. Medicine was adjusted and the IBS was placated. Left in its wake, however, were severe and frequent headaches which rendered me, once again, frequently absent from school and other activities. A few tests and many Excedrin later I was diagnosed with migraine headaches. Severe. Chronic. And really annoying. More difficulties ensued when I began to have difficulty keeping solid foods down. Suspected medications were eliminated, but did not result in an abatement of my symptoms. More tests were run. More doctors’ appointments. More medicines. It didn’t take long for me to realize that perhaps the Fates (or God) had in mind a different course for me than I had ever imagined or planned; and a few lessons to learn along the way.

I like to plan. I make lists. I get excited. It has been quite a shock to me to have my carefully formulated planning completely usurped. After my second round of illness (spring 2007), I decided that it might be a good idea to work on being more flexible. Since then, I have had to constantly readjust, reevaluate, and even sometimes abandon my plans due to illness. It’s stressful. It’s terrifying. It’s just plain annoying. Being forced to do this, though, has helped me to learn a critical lesson. I have learned to be humble and to trust in my Heavenly Father’s plan for me. I have had to surrender my desires, goals, and plans to His for me. It is an ongoing struggle to remember to do this and have faith. But it gets easier. I have seen seemingly impossible situations turn out not just fine, but wonderfully.

Another struggle has been restructuring how I measure my own self-worth. I used to be pleased with who I was and how I was doing in life based on my challenging course load and numerous extracurricular activities. The busier I was, and the more I accomplished, the better I felt about myself. Having developed a chronic illness, I can no longer maintain even a normal course load, and have had to drop most of my extracurriculars. I am so far from busy as to feel, at times, isolated from anything outside of my own home. This has been one of the hardest things about being sick for me. I love to be active, to challenge myself, and to help people. I have, out of necessity, been forced to learn that my value, or self-worth, is not based on what I have accomplished nor how busy I am, but rather, who I have become and who I am becoming.

My parents have instilled in me a strong sense of obligation to serve. Since my migraines began, I have constantly struggled to not “beat myself over the head” for not being able to serve as I would like. I do my best now to serve when and where I can as my body allows, but what I work to remember is that I am learning and growing a lot from this experience, and that when I have my health under control once more, I will be able to use that wisdom to help people in ways I would never have been able to without this trial.

Illness, in any form, is not by any stretch of the imagination pleasurable. My doctors and I continue to try and straighten out my health through trial, error, and brute determination. I continue to work on juggling life with health. Nonetheless, I would not trade my experiences with it.

I have been blessed in many ways which help me to keep going. I have received assistance from wonderful people ranging from health care providers to my everyday peers. My pharmacist, doctors and their nurses have gone above and beyond to help me out. The Disability Support Services staff at my community college has been a vital asset to any attempt I have made at school since my migraines began. Teachers have gone above the legal requirement of my Letters of Accommodation in being not only flexible but sympathetic and accessible. My high school counselor has been nothing short of amazing in the aid and direction he has provided me. My family, friends, and fellow church members have served me in countless ways, allowing me frequent reminders of the love given me which I have to be grateful for.

The most valuable blessing I have received from this trial, however, has been an increased ability to help others. What I have struggled with is by no means as disabling as what I have seen others struggle with, but it has given me a solid glimpse and firm understanding of what people with more troubling problems experience. My wish is that what I am learning now will allow me to someday render service similar to what I have received. Being able to do so would make all that I have endured valuable, precious, and ultimately- worth it.