All I need to know about surgery I learned on GA

I know I said I was going to try and write a post while still suffering from the effects of sedation, but there were no effects. It was a bummer.

Dentists and doctors are not my favorite places; I always get a little nervous feeling in my self when I am in the waiting room. This usually results in a high blood pressure reading and then they tell me I should have that checked out and I think, “Well, if you weren’t so intense I would be fine, crazy lady.” I have the same physical reaction around law enforcement, airport security, toll booths, government offices, etc. I’m working on controlling it and remaining calm, but I think I am just constantly prepared for them to tell me I am doing something wrong. Anyway, wisdom teeth…

It was my first experience with laughing gas, which they gave before hooking me up to the IV drip. I knew it was working because I started going over all the medical information I have learned from 5 seasons of Grey’s Anatomy and applying it to the instruments surrounding me. Of course, this was a little ridiculous since I was in a dentist office and not the ER (or even a hospital), but dang it, I knew what was going on and I felt smart! Heart rate monitor, blood pressure things, lights, x-rays, etc. I was a pro. When the nurse came in to check on my status, I told her about my awesome Grey’s Anatomy expertise and that I was pretty convinced it was a sure sign the gas was doing its thing and I was ready to go. She laughed at me, I laughed at me, I couldn’t feel my fingers and toes, it was all good. Then the doctor came in, jabbed me with a needle and told me everything was going to be alright, and that was about all I remember.

I woke up ready to be all crazy and say silly things, but no. Talk about a sad thing (another sad thing is they didn’t even ask me if I wanted to keep my teeth). I walked out to the recovery chair, listened to the doctor talk to Steve, and then we left. No swelling, no pain, no delirium. Just cotton in my mouth and cotton taped to my arm. Bing, bang, boom. I celebrated my easy recovery by going camping at the beach three days later.

So that’s my story. It wasn’t as bad as I was expecting, I ate a lot of mashed potatoes, watched a lot of movies, and didn’t write a thing. Can't really complain about that though. I do love mashed potatoes.

Celebs

Last night at the Rozema House:

Me, talking to the television: “Go away (actor who shall remain nameless)!! No one likes you except your mom! And your wife!”

Steve: “And God.”

Me: “And God………..*guilty silence*…..God, please bless (actor who shall remain nameless) wherever he is tonight and show him Your love.”

Sometimes I think about the fact that famous people are somewhere in the world right now. Steve and I were discussing this last night – how you never think of them as real people doing real-people things (which sounds kind of bad, but is true). You never say, “Oh yes, Will Smith is probably eating lunch right now.” I feel the same way about people in other countries. At this very second there are people in Japan working, eating, shopping, etc. Friends I made in Peru are still down there, driving around those same roads, living in those same houses.

I can get so caught up in my own life that I forget about the billions of other lives on the planet, and then I remember them and my brain explodes. It is fun to think about though. So many people, so many stories, so many experiences…I love it.

Maybe no one else ever thinks about celebrities being real besides me, but I like thinking about how that they are just people trying to figure out life. Of course, that can get all thought provoking and sad if you start wondering if they are happy or miserable and do they really know what life is all about? Then you pray for them because you want them to be happy, and then you feel odd because you’re praying for pop culture icons.

Anyway, food for thought, I guess.

 In other news, I get my wisdom teeth out on Thursday. Yippee. I’ll try to write while I’m all cracked out on medicine, HA. That should be hilarious.  

"My boyfriend's a paper bag"

It is a terrible thing to have a dumb song stuck in your head. It is a more terrible thing to have two dumb songs stuck in your head at the same time. They switch back and forth, trading places at the front of your brain (or wherever the singing-songs-in-your-head part is) and having a grand old time. Also, they are never anywhere close to full length songs. You’re lucky if you get more than two lines on the loop. Currently I am suffering from “my boyfriend’s back and there’s gonna be trouble. Hey ya, hey ya, my boyfriend’s back” and “do you ever feel like a paper bag floating in the wind.” Hurrah. Sometime they try to play at the same time and get jumbled up and my brain gets confused, “hey ya…paper bag…boyfriend’s back…floating in the wind.” No bueno.

I am kind of sad that I no longer have crazy car stories to write about on my blogs. I feel like that took up a fair amount of my previous writing and added to the interest factor of my life. No more “today I broke down on the side of the road…again,” or “today my car leaked gasoline all over the UNCG parking lot and the haz-mat team came,” or “today I had to strap my bumper up with a tow line so I could drive the rest of the way home.” Ha! The good old days! I’ll have to find new material…

Today’s topic is…Steve and I are taking up disc golf this summer. Come play with us, it’s hilarious and awesome and you will have the best time. I promise. My goal is to master the art of throwing in a straight line on purpose, rather than on accident. I’m not so great at sports of any kind (I claim that the height causes a lack of coordination, but I’m pretty sure that is not an excuse), but I think I might be able to get good at disc golf. Or at least moderately okay. Or at least throw in a straight line…

Hopefully someday soon these posts will get a little longer.

<3

Air

Writing is like breathing for an English major, which means not writing is like holding your breath—unpleasant, stressful, and potentially life-threatening. But when you START writing again it’s like coming up to the surface of the sea and breathing in all that sweet, sweet air, filling your lungs until they might burst. That is how I felt after hitting “Publish” on my previous post. There was a flood of relief and excitement and I felt alive.

I realize this might be an overly dramatic description for some of you, but if there are any other EM’s out there reading this, I hope you can relate to what I am talking about.

For me, writing is the easiest form of communicating thoughts. It removes all the tension of not knowing what to say next or worrying that you will have a break down in the middle of an impressive speech. It allows you to collect your thoughts, organize them, and make them coherent to the reader. How wonderful. Writing is freedom. A blank page can hold anything—fiction, prose, history, random ramblings. It is endless white space waiting to be filled with something fresh and new.

Even if no one ever reads what you write, there is a satisfaction in knowing that you have taken your thoughts and made them into something tangible in this world. Something people could grab onto if they so desired, rather than having them pent up in your mind where you forget about them yourself.

I don’t know what this blog will become, but I don’t want to set the tone as a serious one. I also can’t promise that it will be deep, thought-provoking material either. Ha. My goal is to land on a happy medium. Thank you for allowing me a place to spill my thoughts. A place to breathe deeply and feel like my world is becoming a better place. My goal is that you will find something worthwhile to read when you come. So…here’s hoping.

Growing pains and whatnot

I’ve decided to take up writing again. In part because I think it’s healthy, in part because I have assignments due to my recent enrollment in the Rozema Institute of Liberal Arts, and in part because I feel disconnected from words right now. Please excuse my awkward fumbling as I find my footing in the world of writing. It's been a long time. 

A lot of things have been changing for me in the past two years. I am learning to adapt and take everything in stride, but it takes a little practice. 

It is hard to sort through the bits and pieces of who you were in the past and decide what should be included in who you are in the present and future. Some things need to be left behind as you look ahead in life, and it can be hard parting because those were what defined you for so long. I have been learning a lot about who I am now, in this moment in life. The married, gainfully employed Rachel (who drives a reliable car and dresses in normal business attire) is someone I am just getting to know. I like her, don’t get me wrong, but it’s different. Planning has never been a strong point for me, and it seems like the older you get, the more has to be thought out way in advance. I’m learning though. And thankfully God has given me a husband who is wonderful at planning.

I don’t know if you ever really get caught up on who you are in life. There might always be a struggle between growing up and clinging to who you were. I think that’s why it is so important to find your identity in Christ, first and foremost. Growing, cultivating, and becoming comfortable with who you are in Him makes everything else easier to deal with. If I can remember that I am a daughter of the King, that He has my life in His hands, and I can do all things through Him, then my life’s complications pale in comparison to His goodness.

He is growing us up and we don’t always enjoy it, but it is ALWAYS for the better. I like that. I like growing up with God. Now, to remember that during the hard times...that is the trick. But at least I know it's possible.