15 Signs You Attended a Fundamental Baptist School

I grew up in a Baptist church and my parents wanted me to attend a Baptist school when they made their decision on where to send me after kindergarten (they were unhappy with the public schools in our district). When they enrolled me in the christian school, they saw “Baptist” in the name and assumed the schools beliefs were the same as their own.  While many beliefs are similar, they didn’t know that the Fundamental Baptists were a slightly different breed. 

1.  You looked forward to Chapel day each week.  While chapel was never what one would call “fun,” it was still an hour you weren’t sitting in class.  It was much easier to pass notes in chapel, and there was always the “try not to laugh out loud when someone’s stomach growls” game.

2.  You know what a “sword drill” is.  It was your teacher’s favorite method for learning the Bible, and you probably considered yourself a master by the time you reached 6th grade.

3.  You learned at least 15 Bible verses as songs.  Someone, somewhere, decided the best way to learn Bible verses was to set the verse to music. If you ever hear these verses today, you probably still sing the tune in your head.

4.  You thought the people in the Bible actually spoke 1600s King James English.  Because KJV was the only translation allowed on the premises.

5. You were proud of yourself for buying a DC Talk CD only to be told at school that it was still the music of the devil.  While most churches accept and embrace christian music, fundamental baptists believe the beat is wicked.

6.  Free dress day. What’s that?  You probably got jealous of your other private school friends when you learned they had “free dress” days. Not you, oh no. You were in that plaid uniform every day, every week, every year.

7.  Culottes were the closest thing to pants girls could wear.  Not on a school day, mind you. Only for P.E. or at school-related functions held after school hours.

8.  You’ve been part of a nativity play more times than you can count.  When you finally get selected to be Mary or Joseph, depending on what sex you are, you’ve reached the pinnacle. The highest honor any christian school thespian can achieve.

9. If you happen to be female, you were jealous of the boys.  Because to a Fundamental Baptist, boys were better. Those rare field trips to a skating rink? Boys could wear jeans. Girls were still expected to skate in their uniform or an approved skirt or dress. Hem below the knee, of course!

10.  You’ve sold enough World’s Finest Chocolate to feed a small country.  Because it’s the universal fund-raising food.  None of those great fund raisers where you can choose what kind of food to order…the only options were plain, caramel, almond, or krispy. Don’t hurt yourself deciding from that expansive list of choices.

11.  Your first exposure to science was creationism.  Saying “evolution” was almost as bad as cursing.

12.  A Beka Book.  You never knew a different brand of textbook.

13.  You never watched a film in class.  Not even educational ones. Like, ever.

14. The school holidays were better.  Because, unlike public school, you probably got the Friday before Spring Break off as well, because it usually coincided with Easter.  And that 3 days off at Thanksgiving business? Ha! You got a WEEK.

15.  You lived in fear of being sent to the principal.  Because paddling was the answer to every bad behavior.

Yes, I realize not every fundamental baptist school is exactly like this, but odds are, this was pretty close!

Happy New Year, Depression, and Updates

I don’t know how I let so much time pass without writing anything! I’m sure the reason is simply lack of interest. It’s not that I’m not interested in writing for my blog. When I do write it makes me feel better. I love writing things down if for nothing else than to have something to come back to down the road and be able to see exactly what I was thinking at any given time. My blog I kept during my years in nursing school is one of my most cherished possessions. I go back and look at it from time to time and it always brings back memories I had long forgotten, while always providing me with a good laugh. Some of the things I wrote about…and some of the “hardships” I complained about while I was in nursing school are absolutely laughable! I’ve changed a lot since those days…

Anyway, since about 4 months into my spine injury journey, I’ve been struggling with depression. It’s pretty obvious why I’m depressed, I think. My whole world has been turned upside down and shaken until every ounce of familiarity, comfort, and happiness fell out and shattered into a thousand pieces. Life as I knew it before my injury is one hundred percent different. Not being able to work with patients and do what I love has literally sucked the life out of me. Once several months had passed and it became apparent that I would never again be able to live my life in the way I was accustomed to, I lost my will to go on. I’m not saying I was suicidal, but I certainly wasn’t interested in life anymore. They say that everything happens for a reason and that even our hardest times are just preparing us for bigger and better things…but here I am eight months later and literally NOTHING good has come out of it. It sounds terrible and I know it’s not the appropriate viewpoint, but I literally hate my life right now. And, yes, I know there are many, many people in this world far worse off than I am…and yes, I’m thankful my problems aren’t as bad as they COULD be. I’ve been lectured, scolded, and shouted at plenty of times so I don’t need anyone else telling me my point of view is screwed up. Believe me, I KNOW it is. Depression makes you view things differently, though. It alters your thinking and makes you feel like there is nothing good in your life and makes you feel like there’s no point in waiting and hoping for better things to come your way because, as far as you’re concerned, those better things aren’t coming. Is it the right way to think? No, but it’s how I feel.

Depression is a real medical condition and those who suffer from it may know the right way to feel, but they physically and mentally aren’t able to feel that way even if we desperately want to. When you’re depressed, you lose interest in things you once loved, you feel like your whole life is a mistake. You can point your finger in their face and scold them all day about their crappy outlook on life, but it won’t change the fact that they are depressed. It won’t help them, and if it does anything it only makes them feel worse. Something I’ve realized and had to tell several people is that if you’ve never suffered from true, honest-to-God depression (not just a temporary sense of “the blues”) then you have no idea what a depressed person feels and you should never claim that you do. The best thing anyone can do for someone who is depressed is be supportive. You can tell them you’re worried about them–they know they have a problem–and above all, tell them you’re there for them if they need you. Offer to do what you can to help if you’re truly interested and truly care whether or not they get better. The worst thing you can do is get angry at them and tell them how much they suck then proceed to tell them in no uncertain terms that you hate them and are not interested in whether or not they are depressed (as one of my friends did a while back). It’ll only make them more depressed, and possibly make you a reason they ended it all. I’m not that depressed, thank God, but it isn’t getting better. I hope to overcome this disgusting depression soon. I’m sick of it.

Anyway, since I’m depressed, I’m doing everything I can to beat it. I’m getting out more–as much as I’m physically able. I’m seeing  a doctor. There isn’t much else I’m able to do. Hopefully I’ll lick it soon. I also spent a week with my best friend and her family and it was so nice. I enjoyed seeing her and my godchildren. They did a lot to lift my spirits. So much so, I didn’t want to come home! My back wasn’t ready for all the kid-chasing and kid-lifting…I’m in the most pain I’ve been in since my last surgery. It’s bad. I’m definitely paying for it, but it was worth every bit of the pain. My friend has been so amazing through all of this. She is supportive and always there to talk when I need her. She was entirely too good to me while I was visiting. She paid for my meals, took me on a day trip and paid for everything, gave me gifts, and we had many long talks. It was the best medicine I could have received. We vowed to visit each other more, as she lives 150 miles away. She’s even asking around to help me possibly find a job where she lives so I can be closer to her. While I’m not overly excited about the prospect of moving to a small southern town (I’m a city girl through and through), part of me thinks it would be nice to live a good distance from my parents, while still close enough to visit whenever I want, and live really close to her. She moved almost four years ago and I still miss seeing her all the time.

While I still have a long way to go, I know the depression will eventually get better. I’ve always struggled with it as many of my relatives have, but this is the worst it’s been. I’ve never experienced such a major life change before, so it’s no wonder it got so bad. My hope is that I’ll finally beat this and begin finding joy in my writing again. Even as I write this blog entry I see how much I’ve changed. I used to spend hours writing every day, paying special attention to wording, grammar, and punctuation. I’d read and re-write things multiple times until they were just right. Now I’m just rambling on not giving anything a second look. I’m sure there are countless grammatical and punctuation errors. The fact that I honestly don’t care about those errors proves I have a problem. Wish me luck, I’m ready to be happy again.

Happy new year to all. May this be a year of success and happiness for everyone.

1 Week Down

I’m officially over a week out from my surgery.  It feels nice to reach this milestone considering how long I had to wait for it.  I’m still in a lot of pain, but it is gradually improving.  The leg pain from compressed nerves I was experiencing before surgery is still gone.  The majority of the pain I’m experiencing now is bone pain (the surgeon shaves some of the bone off the vertebrae near the affected disc to help take pressure off the nerve being compressed) and muscle spasms.  The pain is forcing me to use muscles I usually don’t use to support my upper body.  These muscles are screaming and spasming in protest!  That will eventually go away, muscle spasms are a very normal part of recovery from spine surgery.  Doctors regularly prescribe muscle relaxers in combination with narcotics for pain control.

I was talking to my dad earlier about my pain and we discussed the differences between my last two spine surgeries compared to this one.  While the operative pain is a bit worse this time due to working on more than one disk, my legs are much stronger this time than they were after the other surgeries.  They feel stronger now than they have in months!  The surgery was definitely successful in that respect.  While there’s a chance I won’t ever be pain free, I have high hopes that I’ll be pretty close to pain free after 6 weeks or so.

My last spine surgery resulted in an allergic reaction to SOMETHING used in incision closure.  Whether it was the dissolving sutures or the topical glue I don’t know, but I’m having a similar reaction this time.  The wound and surrounding area itch something terrible and are red.  It isn’t infection, though…I’m just concerned that the reaction will hinder healing.  Last time my incision didn’t heal properly and remained open on the top layers.  That combined with a hematoma developing resulted in a second surgery.   The surgeon closed the wound with non-dissolving nylon sutures and it healed beautifully.  I wish she had done that this time, but she didn’t.  We’re watching it like a hawk and first sign that the wound is opening up we’re going straight back to the surgeon.  I refuse to go under the knife again!

In other life news, I’m getting excited about the holiday season.  The Christmas commercials have begun and I have my fall scents all over the house.  I love the warm, spicy scents of fall.  One of my favorites this year is Yankee Candle’s Apple Pumpkin.  It’s fabulous.  I’m beginning to search Pinterest and my new cookbooks for a different recipe or two to make for Thanksgiving.  I’d love a link if anyone has a suggestion for me. I’m also looking forward to a trip to Branson, Missouri sometime before Christmas. My mom wants to take me up there for a little shopping and enjoying their Christmas decorations and activities.  I hated Branson as a kid.  It was a place everyone went to shop and I thought it was a haven for old people and extremely cliche and I hated going.  I even boycotted it and refused to go for years.  Now that I’m older I appreciate it more.  It’s a lovely place with good shopping not too far from home but far enough to seem like vacation.  I still don’t enjoy the shows or any of that aspect of it, but Branson actually has a lot to offer besides their kind of cheesy stage shows.

Surgery Accomplished

I can already tell this is going to take an eternity to type from my iPad, but that’s the only source of internet I brought to the hospital so I’ll have to make do.

First of all I am glad both one and @MissRaeMcNally’s surgeries went well and are now behind us! It’s so nice to have such a frightening event in your past rather than your future.

As as for my surgery, it went as well as it could considering the problems I have.  There were no complications and the severe nerve pain that radiated down my legs as a result of pressure on my nerves from herniated lumbar spine discs is gone.  I have no more leg pain whatsoever.  That’s an encouraging sign that my surgery was mostly successful! The only pain I’m experiencing is incision pain and bone pain from where the surgeon had to clip and saw off parts of my vertebrae.  Doing that takes pressure off the nerves.  She also had to remove disc fragments that were extruded when the discs herniated. Gross stuff, but that’s how it went down.

Due to my history, the doctors are taking extra precautions with me. Most patients who undergo this same surgery go home the next day.  Since I had this procedure 3 months ago and developed a hematoma and postoperative infection, I have to stay until Monday to keep drains in the incision site and to undergo large doses of IV antibiotics to try to prevent that from happening again.  I will also go home on strong oral antibiotics.

My surgeon warned me that due to the severity of my spinal degeneration, my pain my not be totally eliminated…now or ever.  The leg pain being gone does give me hope that it will br at least improved a great deal.  The previous degeneration and new bone removal means I will probably need a lumbar spinal fusion in the future. First discussions of this put the timeframe of fusion at ten years, but with the new bone removal it puts it at more like 3 to 5 years. She is going to do all she can to help me go as long as possible without the fusion because fusions are very painful and severely limit mobility.

I’ve reached the notorious second and soon third postoperative day, so my pain is worse and will probably be bad for a few days, but I know of experience that will ease more and more with each passing day.  So that’s the story for now. I’ll post some more experiences after I go home tomorrow

The Inevitable Has Been Scheduled

I’ve known for a while that surgery was unavoidable, but it’s been easy to put it out of my mind since it wasn’t scheduled and no concrete plans had been made.  Today that changed, and my surgery was scheduled.  I knew it would happen yet I am still apprehensive.  I’ve had several surgeries in my life, but never so many surgeries back-to-back.  This will be surgery number 3 since the end of May.  Hoping this will be the last one…at least for a while.  I am just thankful things aren’t worse.  I know there are many people who can’t walk now due to a spine injury, and people who have endured 10-15 surgeries in the span of a year.  When you look at those people, it’s easier to put your own problems into perspective.  While things are not good for me, they could definitely be worse.  And maybe this surgery will enable me to go back to work (in an administrative job–patient care is no longer an option), and help me to be able to walk without excruciating pain.

The surgery will be November 4 and, despite my discontent, I will not be the first case of the day.  Usually i try to be first on the schedule when I have surgery because I suffer from anxiety and panic attacks are not uncommon for me when I am waiting for surgery.  With there being a surgery before mine, the odds of my surgery starting at the scheduled time is very unlikely.  Hopefully I’ll manage.  I’m nervous, because I was a surgery nurse and I know what can happen…I also know that the odds are very small, but the fact that it’s possible makes me uneasy.  “It” being heart attack, stroke, blood clots, etc.  Scary business.  I’m also at increased risk for infection due to having a previous postoperative infection in the same place a few months ago.  That’s scary too.  There will be numerous precautions taken, but the possibility remains real.

The specifics are this…this surgery will be the biggest surgery I’ve ever had except for the spinal cord surgery I had at eight years of age.  My surgeon will be operating on two different vertebral disks, one which has never been operated on before and one that she worked on last time.  She is having to do a revision on the disk she worked on last time because–in effort to keep treatment conservative due to my young age–she didn’t take out as much bone to decompress the nerves as she could have.  She didn’t do anything wrong, it was just a chance she took and it turned out unsuccessful.  She said she will not be conservative on the new disk and will do all necessary to decompress the nerves at that level.

After surgery I will spend at least two days in the hospital, possibly more, depending on my condition.  She said I should be in there much longer but these days insurance companies dictate how long a person stays in the hospital, not the discretion of a physician.  I just love that bureaucrats with no medical training dictate how much treatment I’m entitled to receive.  Not the best scenario, really, but that’s how it’s been as long as I can remember.  I know my surgeon won’t let me out of her sight unless she’s confident I’m ready.

After I’m released from the hospital, I’ll begin a long recovery period.  The typical recovery is around eight weeks, which will take me through the new year.  Me being atypical and a serial surgery and postoperative infection patient, however, may lead to a longer than average recovery time…I could be recovering for twelve weeks or more before I’m back to a semi-normal state.  While that is daunting, I’m just ready to have this behind me and *hopefully* on my way to returning to a regular, fulfilling life!  I’ve been writing some for working, but it’s not the same for me.  I wouldn’t mind writing for a living, but I want to do it as a full-time employee of a company, not on a freelance basis as I am now.  I want to have a regular job where I’m working 8+ hours a day again.  I want to feel useful again.  This spending 80 percent of my life in my house unable to go out is not working for me.  I am ordinarily a very adventurous person and I have a need to constantly be on the go.  I get cabin fever after a couple of days at home, so these last few months have been torture!  I’m ready to be independent and able to live my life on my terms again!

Hopefully this surgery will be the first step in that direction.  A person has to take a risk to reap a reward, and that’s what I’m doing now.  The chance of the benefit outweighs the risks involved in this surgery, so full steam ahead.  Bring it on and hopefully I’ll be feeling well enough to start living life again soon!

Reasons I Love My Generation

Just a silly little post today.  I’ve been busy packing my house up to sell, a necessary step in the right direction.  Big changes coming my way!  I’m also busy writing up a storm for a website project.  I’m super excited about it, since I’m helping write a historical timeline of my favorite actress of all time.  Details on this will be available soon!

Reasons I Love My Generation

We were the last generation to be born that can genuinely remember well the days before everyone had computers and cell phones.  I was a young teenager before my parents purchased a cell phone, and we were one of the first families in our circle to have one!  There were the infamous, bulky “bag phones,” but they were a pain.  We didn’t get a computer until I was 14 and didn’t get internet until I was 16–and even that was dial-up AOL!

We remember when the most exciting thing to do online was chat on AOL Instant Messenger with your friends you saw everyday.  It was taboo to talk to strangers online, they may be rapers or stranglers!   Funny how times change!

Really we were the last generation whose parents said it was mandatory to learn to drive a standard.  My parents bought me a car a few months before I turned 16, which was so kind of them.  It was as old as I was!  It was a black Honda Prelude and I loved that thing.  It was also a standard and I was terrified of it.  After much perseverance on the part of my dad (mom refused to teach me again after two lessons) it paid off and I learned.  Now that most cars have switched to exclusively automatic transmissions, the need to learn to drive a standard is fading away.

Drinking and smoking were acceptable activities for adults on children’s programs.  I will always remember that cigar-smoking, alcoholic dad in the skits on You Can’t Do That On Television.  If parents today saw that on their children’s programs they’d crap a frisbee.

Nickelodeon was still a freaking awesome channel for kids TV.  My generation was able to watch the ORIGINAL Nicktoons, which were Doug, Rugrats, and Ren and Stimpy.  My parents banned Ren and Stimpy because that show was pure garbage…but so entertaining!  That happened because my dad came in while I was watching a scene where Powdered Toast Man was smacking his butt with a flyswatter.  The only Ren and Stimpy I saw after that was at my best friend’s house.  Another thing about Nickelodeon–Most people of my generation remember Stick Stickley and the jingle to help you remember how to, get this, WRITE HIM A LETTER.  With paper, envelopes, stamps, and everything.  BIZARRE.

Write to…Stick Stickley…P.O. Box 9-6-3…New York City…New York State…1-0-1-0-8!  That’s just pathetic.

We still remember vividly restaurants having smoking sections and smoking being allowed in hospitals and on airplanes.  The fact it was allowed in hospitals still amazes me!  The last hospital I worked for required all smokers be THIRTY FEET off hospital property!  I didn’t even notice the smell of cigarette smoke back then…in fact, I kind of liked it.  It made me think of my granny and grandpa.  They smoked all day every day.  They both quit, but my granny picked it back up after 13 years and a heart attack.  Oh well, at her age she is entitled to whatever she wants I suppose.

Kid’s TV shows referenced movies from the 1930s, 40s ,50s, and 60s on a regular basis…and kids knew what was being referenced!  Young people who love Old Hollywood are few and far between today.

Nick-At-Nite still showed OLD TV shows like I Love Lucy, The Andy Griffith Show, and Leave it to Beaver…gone are the good old days.

Teen and Kids movies were EPIC.  In a class of their own.  They just aren’t the same today.

We still remember a time when families ate dinner together and gathered in the living room to watch TV together.   And the living room was usually the only room that had a TV in it, rather than every room in the house apart from the bathroom!  Today everyone retreats to their own space to do their own thing.

That seems like a thousand years ago…

 

Follower Q&A

So, here are some questions I’ve been asked by my followers, be it twitter, tumblr, or here on my blog.  Most of them were answered privately, but I thought I’d compile them and make them public knowledge.  I do this sort of thing from time to time, and I have had a pretty interesting crop of questions lately.  Enjoy!

What was it like attending a private/church school?

Interesting.  It started out ok enough, but things can get a bit hairy when you attend a church school which observes religious beliefs different from your own.  I have always been a very open, accepting person and I have no problem whatsoever with religions that differ from my own or the people who practice them.  I do, however, have a problem with a particular religion viewing their beliefs as the only “true” religion, and thus, the only true way to God…and I have a problem with those who observe said religions trying to shove it down my throat, making it their constant mission in life to convert me.  Going to a church school like the one I attended for 8 years, you are required to attend theology classes and chapel services.  Things I never had a problem with until I got older and some of the staff began treating the students who had different beliefs with disrespect.  My particular beliefs are actually quite similar to those of the school’s.  I attended a church at that time that was just a different branch of the same religious group, but the small differences were made into very big differences eventually.  The last straw for my parents was when I had my personal bible taken from my locker by the principal.  I was reprimanded publicly for possessing a bible other than the school’s required translation, even though I wasn’t using that bible for school use.  I just had it in my locker.  It was shouted into my face that my personal bible was a translation “from the pits of hell” and would not be tolerated and that I should be ashamed.  It ended with my dad having a long conversation with the principal that resulted in my being taken out of school at the end of that school year.  I got my bible back though!

But overall, I enjoyed my time there.  I grew up with the kids I went to school with.  It was small and everyone knew each other.  I made long-lasting friends and connections in that school.  I was bullied there, but growing up with physical handicaps would have made me a target at any school.  It was probably better being where I was, considering most of the kids knew me and left me alone.  That left only a few who didn’t know me and felt it necessary to bully me.  While some of the educators there had very different opinions from my own, many of them were wonderful people and I loved them.  I also credit going to that school with my success in school.  That school held its students to a much higher standard than the state did.  I entered a public school in 9th grade and was miles ahead of the other kids in my class.  I had always been “smart.”  I typically scored at the top of my class even at the church school, it was just me.  Entering that public school, though, showed me just how far ahead I was.  It also prepared me for university, which I was able to get through quite easily.  Nursing school is never EASY, but as far as the “book” knowledge, I had that covered.  I graduated from high school and university with honors, and I think that was partially due to attending the  church school.

Tell us a little about where you grew up.

I grew up in a very poor neighborhood of North Little Rock, Arkansas.  Poor and rough.  There were some very scary people living around us.  We didn’t have much money, but I never thought of myself as poor.  I never had to go without anything and I went to a private school with a tuition every semester.  That’s part of why we lived where we did.  My dad grew up in that neighborhood, so that’s where my parents lived when they got married.  It was inexpensive to live there, so they stayed there in order to keep me in my private school and ensure I had what I needed and usually what I wanted.  I had a good childhood there.  I had a few friends around, but not many.  There just weren’t a lot of kids on my street my age.  Our house was small, it had one bathroom and two tiny bedrooms, a kitchen and a living room.  That’s all.  My first house I bought on my own after college was substantially bigger.  That was home, though.  I still think about that tiny house all the time.  So many memories are there.  My little bedroom, the furnace in the hallway floor that I fell and burned myself on many a winter night.  The kitchen window I was hoisted into on several occasions when my parents would leave the house and forget their key, locking themselves out.  Yeah, that happened way more often than it should have.  You would think my parents would have heard of a key ring.  The neighborhood was close to downtown, so it was close to where my parents worked in the center of the city.  It was close to the Arkansas River, and my dad said that had something to do with why the soil was so fertile.  I loved that little house.

We ended up moving away from there, finally, when I was 11.  Two rival gangs got into a fight after a party going on near my home.  The fight led to a shootout.  We heard gunshots outside, numerous shots, and my dad picked me up from my seat in the living room and ran me into the bedroom, literally throwing me under the bed.  My mom wasn’t far behind me.  I remember dad lying in the floor blocking the door, in shock to the point I was unable to scream when the shots were being fired outside the room.  I remember him calling the police and being told they were already on the way.  We could hear them on our front porch and in our yard, shooting at each other and screaming.  I was terrified for my friends–Ronnie, the kid across the street who was my best friend, and our neighbors, Mrs. Chism and the Shooks, all elderly.  They loved me and treated me like I was their grandchild.  I’d visit them often and received gifts from them every Christmas.  I remember after the shooting incident, our house had a for sale sign in the yard less than one week later.

What “handicap” did you have as a child?  Does it still affect you as an adult?

I had something called a tethered spinal cord, which is technically a form of spina bifida.  The difference is that it usually has better outcomes and your spinal cord isn’t exposed.  It does, however, cause physical problems and requires neurosurgery to correct.  My spinal cord has been repaired, but I will always have spine problems.  My spine didn’t develop normally after a certain point.  It was normal up to the lower part of my thoracic spine.  My lower spine vertebrae get smaller progressively from the point where the normal development stopped.  This results in a very narrow spinal canal which makes any injury to my spine more severe than it would be for a person with a normal spine.  That plus having a weak spine to boot, left me pretty well jacked.  To look at me, you wouldn’t know I had spine problems apart from having a slight limp, but it actually causes me severe pain every day now after sustaining a fractured vertebrae and herniated disks.  Unfortunately there isn’t too much that can be done for me now.  Just have to live with it, which I do!

Who is your favorite celebrity and why?

Well, anyone who follows me on tumblr knows I have a lot of actors and actresses I admire.  The top two being Barbara Stanwyck and Carol Burnett.  If I had to choose one of them, though, I’d have to go with Carol Burnett.  I admire her for so many reasons.  The first–and most obvious–reason being her insane talent.  She can literally do it all.  She can sing, she can dance, she does drama, and of course is one of the greatest comediennes ever born.  She’s also a brilliant writer and one of my top 3 favorite authors.  She is also a very kind, generous person.  She does so much good for others and she’s highly respected.  She appreciates her fans and, despite being a huge celebrity, writes them all back when they write her a letter.  That means the world to a fan, the fact that the person you admire is willing to acknowledge you.  She is just an amazing human being.  Her movies and, of course, her show are some of my favorite things to watch–and I watch them over and over.

If you could live anywhere in the world, where would it be?

America.  I love it here.  It’s familiar to me.  That’s not to say I don’t like other countries, because I do!  There are many places I long to visit.  I want to visit the places my ancestors lived.  I want to visit so many places!  When it comes to where I call home, however, I want to stay right here in the United States.   We have our problems in this country, but what country doesn’t?  My ancestors chose to make the journey across the Atlantic from England and Ireland and they did so because they wanted to raise their families here.  I love that they did that and I don’t have any plans to leave.  And specifically, I want to stay in the South U.S.  The South is home to me.  The culture is very different in the south from other parts of the country.  People here tend to be friendlier and the pace of life is slower.  People aren’t in so much of a hurry and that appeals to me.  People in the South also have a strong sense of pride about their beloved “Dixie.”  I love to venture out and see the world, but I like to come back and settle in to the comfort and familiarity of home at the end of the day.  I live in Arkansas, and it is a beautiful place.  A fact most people don’t know about this state.  My family moved from state to state when they came to this country, but finally settled in Arkansas.  Put down new roots and made memories.  This state has history for me and my family and is very important to me.   I love the natural beauty of my state with its mountains, rivers, lakes, and forests.  This place will always be “home” even if I don’t happen to live here.

I’m Tired of Being Down…I’m On My Way Up!

*Note:  Forgive the length of this blog post!  It got quite long in a hurry, but I haven’t posted in a while and there have been so many things happening lately.  Sometimes you have to get it all out!  Like a rant in reverse.  😉

So, every time I feel like I’m nearing the light at the end of the tunnel, something else comes up and stops me in my tracks.  Sorry I haven’t been blogging much, but I’ve gone from having literally NOTHING to do to actually having a few offers come my way to work on some very interesting projects…the details of which will be revealed as they become available.  😉

I just had my third surgical procedure in three months.  Granted compared to two spine surgeries, the one today was literally nothing.  I had my wisdom cut out because they were not coming in properly.  When I learned I needed this done, I was told it would potentially be a little complicated.  Of course in my recent state of mind, I didn’t take the news well.  “Why me? Why do things keep going wrong?  Why does everything have to be complicated?” You know, pity party table for one!  Well, the procedure actually went totally smoothly and much easier than the doctor anticipated, which made me very happy.  Apart from a wicked sore mouth, I’m doing fine and should be back to normal—at least in that department—in no more than a week.

I won’t rehash everything that’s happened since May, Lord knows I’ve done enough of that.  There is one thing I’d like to discuss, though.  When a person goes through so much in so little time, learns their back is basically never going to return to normal, and  being in your 20s learning you’re a nurse who will never be able to work in direct patient care again…they tend to get a little depressed.  I knew was down, but didn’t realize how much so.  Thanks to the support of my family, I’ve gotten some help for the depression.  No, I haven’t been suicidal or anything like that, but I understand now how depressed people can fall into that trap of thinking there is no other way out of their problems.  Depression is a legitimate illness which needs treatment.  I refused to admit I had a problem.  Now, of course, I know I did.

Due to my depression, I began to withdraw from my friends.  I still spoke to them some, and even went out a time or two, but did not maintain the same level of communication I had in the past.  I had no desire to talk to people some days and would literally leave my phone in my bedroom and not look at it for days.  Talking to people about what was going on only made me feel worse and deepen the depression, even though they were genuinely concerned about me and just wanted to know how I was.

Well, one of those friends did not take my silence well.  She was very good to me initially.  She attended both of my surgeries and made a beautiful wreath for me.  In fact, she was the only friend I had who actually visited me at the hospital (not that I’m saying that’s bad, I know some of my friends simply don’t have the time or means to visit people in the hospital due to kids, distance, etc).  Anyway, very soon after my second surgery, my parents took me to Dallas to try to help cheer me up from the slump I was in.  It worked a little.  I was so happy while I was there!  I made a mistake though.  I continued my newly forming habit of leaving my phone at home and failing to check it sometimes 3 or 4 days in a row.  Well, this friend texted me to check up on me, a very kind thing to do, while I was there and I neglected to respond.  I got her text at a time when I was unable to respond, and, God’s honest truth, I simply forgot to reply to the text when I was able to.

She then texted me again once I was back home, making it clear she didn’t appreciate me not replying to her text.  I replied to it then, but heard nothing more from her.  I even sent this person a facebook message in attempt to explain.  Nothing.  After a while of ignoring me I texted her again, trying one last time to establish communication again.  Well, as my life typically goes, she called me literally 20 seconds after my dad called me, leaving me unable to answer her text.  Well, I guess that was the last straw because I received a long, quite cold voicemail, followed by a VERY long and even more cold text message basically spelling out that I sucked at being a friend and that I had problems and needed help and that she couldn’t help me.

My immediate reaction was to text her back in attempt to explain, but it fell on deaf ears.  She has yet to communicate with me since.  At first, I was deeply hurt.  Some of the things she said were extremely hurtful and though she stated “she cared,” someone who directly tells you that you have problems and depression, she still treated me like I was just being rude and ignoring her.  So its like she knew I was going through something that made me into something I’m not, but turned right around and made me out to be the bad guy for missing one text.  Public enemy number one.  I wanted desperately to patch things up because I despise confrontation, but then I started to think about some of the things she said.  I am not going to repeat them all, but the thing that struck the biggest chord with me was her telling me numerous times “you need help, you have problems, and I can’t help you.”  Then my sadness was replaced, for a time, with anger.  I didn’t ever recall, NOT ONCE, asking for her help.  I merely missed a text from her.  Period.  So, granted, maybe that did make me a crappy friend, but I was going through a depression so bad I literally was a different person for a while.

Because of that situation, I made more of an attempt to keep in touch with my friends, and thank God, not one other soul shared her feelings of hatred toward me…and believe me when I tell you I missed more than one text from some of them!  My other friends were all kind and supportive, simply picking up where we left off, forgetting the whole thing.  So, for a while, I harbored a huge resentment for this woman and her treatment of me.  If everyone else can be ok with it and understand that depression is a real problem and sometimes things happen that are unintentional.

Then I got help for the depression.  I guess it took that whole, messy scenario to finally propel me into action and seek help for the depression I was suffering…because anyone who has suffered from depression knows, you aren’t going to get better unless you want to do it for yourself.  Not because someone tells you to.  Once I got the help I needed, I got into a better state of mind and was able to start sorting through my feelings with much more perspective.  So, after all the cruel things that were said, I realized being upset with her wasn’t hurting anyone but myself.  I chose right then and there to let it go, deciding to spend my time being around the people who still cared and wanted to be there for me and actually enjoyed my company—and I theirs.  With a clearer grasp on things, I now realize that—though I hardly think it was her intention—she helped me a great deal.

I finally grew up and stopped pitying myself, choosing to direct my thoughts toward the things and people that mattered.  I also realized, after some friends reminded me of some things, that perhaps I wasn’t the only person in that scenario who needed help.  Once I let it go and wanted to try again to make amends, I was urged not to by practically everyone.  It was the opinion of most of my friends and family that, though it would be a good thing to apologize for undue hurt I may have caused her missing that text, that someone who would treat me like that would be very detrimental to the progress I’m making…unless of course she decided to dig deep and look within and realize she was in a very similar situation emotionally.  Obviously or she wouldn’t have reacted the way she did.

I have chosen not to attempt communicating with her in the future.  If she should attempt to contact me, I will be kind and apologetic, but that whole situation—as many situations born of anger do—made me realize that sometimes people are just not meant to be friends.  No matter how badly you want it.  It still saddens me to feel that way, but it is very unlikely that the two of us will ever establish a friendship again, regardless.  The highest I am aiming for is civility and I am going to have to be happy with that.

Through this whole terrible summer, my life has been flipped upside down.  I’m moving out of my house, I’m a nurse who can’t work with patients (in the sense I WANT to work with patients) and it’s been a lot to take in in 3 months!  But you have to go through a storm—a really bad storm—sometimes to get to where you’re really meant to be in your life.  When bad things happen, it’s very hard to accept that they may be happening for a reason…a reason so amazing and good you couldn’t imagine it in your wildest dreams.  In this past three months, I actually was able to get out of a job that was doing more harm than good for me as well as rid myself of a lot of the negativity in my life.  I’m choosing to spend my time around people who are positive and uplifting.  I’ve parted ways with some people who only brought pain and negativity into my life…because whether you believe it or not, the people you associate yourself with can rub off on you.  I choose to let the positive people rub off on me and eliminate the people who enjoy hurting people for sport.  It’s like being a child and getting away from the bad influence kids.

Since I’ve made this drastic change in my life, things keep getting better and better.  I was able to drop the negative attitude and so many great things have just fallen into my lap!  Things I wanted but never asked for…things I wanted, but didn’t even know I wanted until I was able to sweep all the darkness out of my mind.  There are still some amazing people I’ve not done well to keep in touch with and I am doing my best to get around to reconnecting with them.  I basically made up my mind that I was not going to be weak anymore, allowing all the negativity and hate contaminate my spirit.  It’s the best decision I’ve ever made, and it’s become easier and easier to accept the things I don’t “want” to happen and just let them happen…because I know these things are all part of a bigger picture—working to make and mold me into the person I want to be and was meant to be.  My happiness is no longer based on making others happy, but rather being kind (which will, in turn make people happy) and being accepting of anything life throws at me.

The storm clouds are clearing and the sunshine is breaking through.  Life is good and getting better…and I have more love in my heart for my friends and family than I ever thought I could!  Hold fast to the people who genuinely love you.  They are the key to helping you get your life back on track.  I had to learn the hard way that going around constantly surly, unhappy, and feeling sorry for yourself will never work out well for you.  People who hurt inside are typically the first ones to lash out and hurt other people, trying to make sure they’re surrounded with people who are as miserable as they are.  It took me over 20 years but I’ve finally figured that out!

I Really Shouldn’t Make Plans

I always have these big ideas of what my next post will be.  I try to make a plan or schedule of what I’m going to write about day to day, and it NEVER happens!  So I am going to try not to post my plan for my next post at the end of my most current posts, that way if my plan doesn’t come to fruition, no one will be any the wiser.

I know I promised part two of my makeup haul to be my next post (this post), but as usual, my plan has failed.  I haven’t even received everything yet.  I’m still waiting on two more things.  Hautelook is amazing as far as finding good deals, but they are extremely slow in shipping!  The things I have received, however, are fabulous.  I bought lots of makeup items, and they’re all great.  I purchased a z-palette, finally, from Makeup Geek along with 12 of their eyeshadow shades.  I’m extremely happy with every item.  I also purchased a nude lipstick set from Hautelook (NYX brand) and I love them, and I also got some cream eyeshadow pencils from NYX and some lip pencils.  The most recent items to arrive were some shimmery mineral eye colors from Blend Minerals and an eye color pigment from Makeup Geek called “New Years Eve.”  LOVE IT.  I couldn’t be happier with the purchases I’ve made.  But I’ve been having some skin issues lately–most likely caused by medication from my surgery or a hormonal imbalance (most likely also due to the trauma my body has been through due to surgery).  Never in my life has my skin broken out or have I had acne.  Even as an awkward teenager!  Well, I don’t exactly have acne now, either, but I do have an incredibly broken out face.  Bumps, redness, it’s terrible.  Lots of itching.

As far as the surgery is concerned, I’m starting to lose hope in everything.  I don’t know if I’m ever going to get through all the pain and get to a point where I can live a normal, pain-free life.  I desperately don’t want to undergo another surgery to fuse my lumbar vertebrae, but my doctor insists that is the next step.  She and I both want to do everything in our power to hold that off as long as possible.  It’s just that I’m not sure how much longer I can put up with this pain and lack of mobility.  This being shut in the house because it hurts too much to go out.  I got used to it for a while.  Used the fact that I had to remain a shut-in to my advantage.  I wrote articles for pay and for contests (some of which I won).  I watched movies and had a pretty good time.  Now the depression has set in and I’m at the end of my rope.  I just feel like, if this is all I have to look forward to for the rest of my life…that is not a happy prospect.  I have to do something to change this course my life is taking or I may not make it…and that’s the truth.  I cry every day.  I’m desperate to get out and live my life.  I’m desperate to regain my independence and get out from under my parents roof.  They are only trying to help but they keep me locked up like a prisoner to keep me from hurting myself further.  I feel like I’m withering up and dying.

I’ve lost interest in the things I once loved.  I don’t keep in touch with my friends.  I used to keep my phone with me at all times…now I haven’t even looked at it in days.  I have no interest or desire to talk to anyone…and even when I do check my phone or my facebook, nobody has even bothered to check on me anyway so what’s the point.  There are two…TWO…people who regularly check on me.  Nobody else gives a crap.  I’m useless to them.  People I once loved like family are now nothing more than people I used to know and people who don’t give a shit about the suffering I’m going through.  Then again, it isn’t really their problem, is it?  It would just be nice to know someone cared once in a while.

I have to stop writing this. The more I think about it, the more I realize I’ve lost everything and everyone that ever meant anything to me.  And without those things and those people, what’s the point.  I hope my readers never have to experience the pain of losing your independence when you’re in your 20s…and losing the people you loved and thought were your friends.  It hurts more than I can possibly express to think that these people I thought loved me are too busy to even send me a “how are you feeling?” text.  To realize that you thought you had a lot of friends only to find out you’re NOTHING to just about everyone you know is one of the most painful feelings in the world.  Something I don’t want to feel anymore.  I can’t deal with it anymore.  I’ve never hurt this much in my life.  Physical pain is horrible…but the emotional pain of realizing you’re nobody is probably the most painful feeling in the world.

Just an Update

Since the tone of my last post was pretty depressing, I didn’t want to have the first thing readers see when they visit my blog to be something of a negative nature.  I decided to post something a little more positive to make my blog a more enjoyable read.  I’ve been pretty sick lately due to complications from my recent spine surgery, so I only have a few things to update on–but they’re pretty big!

As I mentioned in my previous post, I have unfortunately developed some complications from my spine surgery in May.  The surgical incision failed to close, leaving an open wound on my back over my spine.  This made for a very dangerous situation due to the risk of infection.  I have since had surgery to close the wound, cultures were taken to determine what, if any, bacteria were infecting my wound, and have received treatment.  The cultures revealed very little bacteria, meaning if I had an infection, it was just beginning.  My doctor did find that I had a hematoma, which is a pooling of blood beneath the surface of the skin.  Left untreated, the hematoma would be a breeding ground for bacteria and infection.  She drained that, cleaned up the surrounding tissue, and closed the wound.

Speaking of closing the wound, she had to close it with the black nylon suture, the stereotypical “stitches” most non-medical people think of when they think of stitches.  (Today, most suture used in surgery is absorbed by the body after a certain period of time, usually just the right amount of time needed for the wound to close.)  The reason I was closed with non-absorbable nylon suture was because my doctor suspected the reason my incision failed to heal properly was because my body was allergic to the absorbable suture and attacked it.  This caused the suture to absorb much too quickly, she also suspects it is the cause of the major allergic reaction I suffered.

I’m not sure if the suture is the cause of the allergic reaction, because since my second surgery, I have again developed that same allergic inflammatory response though none of the suture in question was used.  So it’s a mystery.

So far my incision looks good and is staying closed.  I am still dealing with inflammation, swelling, and itching around the incision though.  That on top of the post-surgical pain (which is pretty intense) makes for a pretty uncomfortable situation for me.  I’m not going to let it get me down though.  Am I a little down and a little tired of being stuck indoors with nothing to do?  Yes.  The difference is I’m not going to let it consume my life anymore.  I may have it kind of tough right now, but there are millions of people in the world who have it far worse than I do.  I am just thankful I am alive, I can walk, and that–so far–I’m healing.

So now, I have a few more weeks of recuperation ahead of me, but my mom and I are determined to keep me active.  We plan on getting out of the house more this time, to help with the “cabin fever.”  It may be a bit painful to be active, but I’m tired of doing nothing but sit around, watch TV, surf the internet, and reading  I want to get outside the house, go to stores, go for scenic drives, things like that.  My mom says she will help me accomplish this (since I’m not permitted to drive until released by my doctor).

I was released from the hospital yesterday, making my stay in the hospital almost 5 days.  I can’t believe how sick I got and how quickly it happened!  I’m home now, though, taking today to kind of get adjusted to being home again, then tomorrow we plan on hitting it.  We will slowly start to increase my activities.  Tomorrow we will probably take a drive and maybe go shopping in a store or two.  One thing’s for sure, I won’t be spending another full day in the house!

I have been buying tons of amazing cosmetics at unbelievable prices, so I’m putting together a super fun cosmetic haul post for next time!  Until then, I hope everyone has a terrific week!