Thursday Thirteen
January 7, 2010 
Thirteen Ways I’ve Redefined The Term Living Room
1. I’ve slept in it for well over a year.
2. I’ve actually had a bed to sleep in for 4 months.
3. I’ve started to throw things on the bed and use it as a shelf when I’m not in it.
4. 2 computers are at the ready.
5. I had 2 DVD players for my own personal use.
6. Books are piled everywhere, just like my actual bedroom.
7. The loveseat is covered with my positioning pillows.
8. When the loveseat isn’t covered with pillows it doubles as a hanger/hamper/shelf.
9. Hospital buckets act as drawers and storage containers.
10. Going to the actual bathroom counts as a fieldtrip, or at least it use to.
11. Pretty much none of the furniture is being used for its intended purpose, or at all.
12. I’ve pretty much forgotten what the 2nd floor of this place looks like.
13. I can actually make a list of how the living room has become so much more than it intended to be.
True Story Tuesday
January 5, 2010 
Realizations Of A Near-Bionic Woman
I didn’t put much thought into some details of surgery; at a certain point all I wanted to do was have surgery, leaving all un-worry worthy details to assumption. Such as, metal was going to take up permanent residence in my body. What type doesn’t matter, at least I didn’t think it did.
“But the person who did my last MRI said most metals put into people’s bodies now are MRI safe.”
“That’s true, if it’s titanium. You’re having stainless steal…”
I was told that stainless steal was going to be the chosen material of my implants. That being the case I’d be setting off metal detectors for the rest of my life. Therefore a letter would be provided for me for travel, or other issues. MRIs are also mostly out of the question. Such a shame since my almost last MRI experience was so memorable.
Why would stainless steal be chosen over titanium? I have no idea. It doesn’t seem to be the wisest choice, if there even is one, I have a feeling titanium counterparts haven’t been created, or even considered yet.
Last week I went to the mall with the intention of seeing A Christmas Carol, instead seeing The Princess and the Frog (which I’ll write about later). After the movie and lunch we set off to buy my cousin some gym shoes. I rolled my way though the security detectors of the store.
BEEP
“I think I just set off the detector.”
“I think you did too.”
“I told you I should be carrying that letter in my wallet.”
Then I think of who was walking out of the store as I was walking in, and what they were carrying.
“Maybe it was the guy with the golf clubs and not me.”
“We’ll test it out when we leave.”
“Yeah and they’ll think I stole something, and I don’t have the letter.”
“It’s in your card holder. I have that.”
“Are you sure?”
“Either way it’s too late now.”
She has a point. I might also be hauled away by mall cops in 20 minutes. How fun.
While my aunt and cousin are in the check out line I keep my eyes on the doorway trying to find an opening to make a break for it. I’m about to roll when someone comes though with bags….
No.
Wait, for, it……
NOW!
I roll though the security detector and into the mall.
No beep.
At least I didn’t set off the security detector.
Not this time anyway.
I can just imagine what my favorite nurse would say about this. She’d die laughing, again. She and I have that kind of relationship.
First I have to have a baseline MRI for any future scans to make the interference easier to detect, then the aspirin, I have to take antibiotics before going to the dentist, I’ll be setting off metal detectors for the rest of my life, now I’ll be moderately paranoid of security points in stores and libraries.
I’m a near-bionic woman.
C’est La Vie!
Finding Normal
January 1, 2010 
It’s a new day around here. I never thought I’d see it but here it is. For one thing today’s the first day I’ve been left home along since post-op. Today my mom, and my primary caregiver, has to go back to work.
As much as I planned my pre-op, surgery, post-op, and recovery; I never planned this part, just like I never planned on so many other details of how this is actually turning out. But that’s just fine with me.
The plan was for me to get admitted as an inpatient where one of my doctors is and where I’ve been getting PT and other services the last few years. As much as I hoped and prayed for an admission, as crazy as that sounds, I was considered “too well” to meet the qualifications for inpatient admission.
Good for me, bad for the plan.
Outpatient admission meant the “half leave” would have to be a total one. Although I was able to go back to work sooner than expected so we were both able to go back to work in some respect, but not how either of us would’ve liked to.
Today the day-to-day changes.
I’m finding a new normal.
I’m making progress too.
The two go hand in hand really.
I can stay home alone for 12 hours and not worry.
This morning I woke up, got myself out of bed, and tried to decide what to do today. The possibilities seem endless. It’s not really turning out to be any different. The only difference I feel is that of increased independence. But oh what a feeling, and what a difference.
In fact I have clothes out in case I want to go out later if I want to. Now all that planning that use to happen is normal to me. It’s not planning anymore, it’s just life. I also found my house keys, an essential for leaving the house.
The silkair mattress got picked up the other day. Now the only thing that remains of hospital is the bed frame, but I’m sleeping on my own mattress now. It’s not nearly as comfortable but it’s a step in the right direction.
I remember the day the silkair was dropped off. I was still hazy and shaky. I had to get out of bed and I didn’t want to. I just sat by the computer and waited for the guy to come in. As I watched my new bed inflate I thought, “There’s no way I’m sleeping on that thing for long.”
I got use to the noise the motor makes when it’s turned on and its constant hum. I’m getting use to the new silence in my new bedroom, and it’s never silent.
My body’s getting use to the way it should’ve been functioning all along. Everyday I walk a little further. Swim one more lap. Get dressed just a little faster. I’ve even started to walk more at home.
Now people come over to visit, not just because I need someone to sit with me.
It’s a nice feeling.
I don’t think I’ll ever take advantage of such a thing again.
I love being alone. I love being able to be alone.
I woke up this morning
Feeling brand new
Cause the dreams that I’ve been dreaming
Have finally came true
It’s a new day
-Will.I.Am
New Year, New Me
Not to be confused with New Year, New Routine; 2010 will be much better than 2009 was, even though a lot of good came out of 2009, 2010 will be packed full of awesome.
I’ve been thinking about my blog a lot lately and my life online as a whole. I’ve been spending too long trying to drum up traffic, doing things just because “everyone else” seemed to be doing it. As I find myself looking though older blog posts, from the past year in particular, I wonder why I put them there. What was my true motivation? To be honest I’m not coming up with an answer that I like.
You may find that some/most/all posts relating to a particular subject are missing; because I’ve deleted them. Some posts just don’t need to be there anymore, if they ever did in the first place, so they aren’t. By now I should’ve deleted all the post I felt should go but others may soon follow.
The original purpose of this blog, and its previous incarnations, was to entertain a friend (or 2). As the blog world had gained popularity, and mine didn’t, I found myself sucked into a blogging popularity contest. The funny thing is I wasn’t competing with anyone in particular. I was just competing with myself.
I’ve made some amazing friends thanks to blogging these days, but that’s just a blessed side effect from my inner popularity contest.
Want to know the funniest thing about all of this? The posts I don’t put much thought into, they’re the same ones that get the most traffic, even years later. So this one will get 0 traffic.
I got into very interesting discussions about Facebook over Christmas; the first one being at the table on Christmas Day. One of the great things about sitting at the “foot” of a table of 30, you can have whatever conversation you want and everyone can’t hear you.
Thankfully my cousin’s girlfriend came to my defense in most of our discussion; I knew I’d like her. I can usually hold my own in discussions of any subject during the Christmas season but having backup is nice, especially if she’s on one side of the person you’re debating with and you’re on the other. The “middle man” has no choice but to concede 
(Although I think our impromptu “dinner hockey” game over a wayward piece of lasagna confused her.)
The day after Christmas my cousin and the same girlfriend took pictures of me with each of them; with the sole focus of luring me back to Facebook, nice of them isn’t it? Now normally I’d follow whatever lead this man has set before me, it’s a penalty for being a month younger. But I’ve grown up. I don’t listen to everything he tells me anymore, well not nearly as much. And more to the point since when did he start dating Brutus?
Seriously what happened to the other half of my two man defense? I’m starting to think Christmas was a cover up for their master plan.
There use to be this joke, sort of, in college within my closest circle of friends that went like this: “If you get an IM at 2am, Sarah should be writing a paper. Tell her to write the paper.”
It isn’t much of a joke, but it is true. After everyone caught on they’d refuse to speak to me until I wrote the paper. For this very reason I removed all forms of instant messaging from both computers, at least it was a big part of the motivation.
As much as I haven’t used Facebook I still can’t bring myself to deleting my page. It’s too hot to handle. I know I’ll sign in with every intention of deleting myself from the system, and I’ll be there for hours doing anything but.
As much as I’d like my blog to explode into the online world at large. I know it comes with a responsibility that I can’t live up to. It won’t just come from others but largely from myself.
Lately I’ve been wondering, even more so, if I can go “off the grid,” and still find some measure of happiness, and more importantly connection. Because the more connected I get the less connected I feel. What if I simply un-social networked myself?
Could I even delete my blog? Could I walk away? Could that work for me?
I’m coming to the realization that the more you put yourself out there without much control of where it goes leaves you wide open. As much as I want to be open and honest with people I’m not sure following the crowd is how I want to go about it. It’s true I’ll probably be driving some people away, but I don’t want to feel like I’m in the middle of a massive popularity contest anymore. Life is not middle school.
If I wanted to do what was popular I would’ve stopped that the 1st 2nd opinion and never had surgery, and today is day 113 post-op. Clearly there is part of me that doesn’t care to be popular.
2010 is the year for that part to get bigger and the need-to-be-popular part to get smaller, maybe even disappear.
What Day Is This?
What Child is this, who laid to rest,
On Mary’s lap is sleeping?
Whom angels greet with anthems sweet
While shepherds watch are keeping?
This, this is Christ the King
Whom shepherds guard and angels sing.
Haste, haste to bring Him laud,
The Babe, the Son of Mary.
-What Child Is This, verse 1
Christmas is officially over!
And I might just be the only person on the planet who’s thankful for such a thing?
I do enjoy Christmas but the “Christmas Season” pretty much started in October this year, as it did the year before and-so-on; ask Straight No Chaser if you don’t believe me. So by the time Christmas is upon us I’m basically having an “are-we-there-YET” moment.
I’ve been going non stop since Wednesday.
I actually woke up this morning in a drunken stupor (but not) like state and thought “What day is this?”
Now I’m not particularly known for my gift of knowing the date (or the time) but I’m usually off by a day, maybe two, certainly not several.
It’s also not typical that I spend four complete days out in a row, at least not post op.
It’s been an interesting few days.
It’s been fun.
It’s over.
How many days until New Years?
For Your Flashback Pleasure: First Sunday After Advent
And just for fun:
Merry Christmas!
In those days Caesar Augustus issued a decree that a census should be taken of the entire Roman world. (This was the first census that took place while Quirinius was governor of Syria.) And everyone went to his own town to register.
So Joseph also went up from the town of Nazareth in Galilee to Judea, to Bethlehem the town of David, because he belonged to the house and line of David. He went there to register with Mary, who was pledged to be married to him and was expecting a child. While they were there, the time came for the baby to be born, and she gave birth to her firstborn, a son. She wrapped him in cloths and placed him in a manger, because there was no room for them in the inn.
And there were shepherds living out in the fields nearby, keeping watch over their flocks at night. An angel of the Lord appeared to them, and the glory of the Lord shone around them, and they were terrified. But the angel said to them, “Do not be afraid. I bring you good news of great joy that will be for all the people. Today in the town of David a Savior has been born to you; he is Christ the Lord. This will be a sign to you: You will find a baby wrapped in cloths and lying in a manger.”
Suddenly a great company of the heavenly host appeared with the angel, praising God and saying,
“Glory to God in the highest,
and on earth peace to men on whom his favor rests.”
When the angels had left them and gone into heaven, the shepherds said to one another, “Let’s go to Bethlehem and see this thing that has happened, which the Lord has told us about.”
So they hurried off and found Mary and Joseph, and the baby, who was lying in the manger. When they had seen him, they spread the word concerning what had been told them about this child, and all who heard it were amazed at what the shepherds said to them. But Mary treasured up all these things and pondered them in her heart. The shepherds returned, glorifying and praising God for all the things they had heard and seen, which were just as they had been told.
-Luke 2:1-20 NIV
“God’s sign is the baby in need to help and in poverty.
Exactly the same sign has been given to us…God’s sign is simplicity…God’s sign is that he makes himself small for us. This is how he reigns. He does not come with power and outward splendor.
He comes as a baby defenseless and in need of our help. He does not want to overwhelm us with his strength.
He takes away our fear of his greatness.
He asks for our love: so he makes himself a child.
He wants nothing other from us than our love…God made himself small so that we could understand him, welcome him, and love him…
Christmas has become the Feast of gifts in imitation of God who has given himself to us. Let us allow our heart, our soul, and our mind to be touched by that fact!”
-Pope Benedict XVI
A Tune For Tuesday
Because I feel the need to write but have nothing to write about.
And this makes holiday burnout sound funny, which we all know isn’t very.
Christmas, Christmas time is here, and Christmas songs you love to hear
thoughts of joy and hope and cheer, but mostly shopping, shopping, shopping
Christmas. Christmas time is here, the sleigh bells and red nosed deer
songs and songs we love to hear all played a thousand times each year
Heard this same song 20 times and it’s only Halloween (Joy to the World)
It’s not even cold outside (deck the halls with boughs of holly)
Christmas, Christmas time is here, and Christmas songs you love to hear
(Hark the herald angels sing joy to)
thoughts of joy and hope and cheer, but mostly shopping, shopping, shopping
Christmas season, starting sooner every year
It’s October, stores with plastic Christmas trees
Ransack the mall, shop until you lose your mind
Spike the eggnog, sit back and watch
Rudolf, Frosty, Tiny TIm, and Scrooge the price, or Charlie Brown
It’s time…
It’s time to do the Christmas can-can
if you can’t, can’t dance well that’s ok (not going to do the kick line)
All you need is a tree, some lights about a thousand presents
wrap them up and pray for snow
Run to your closet find your Christmas sweaters screaming carols all the way (fa-la-la-la-la)
Maine all the way to California it’s the Christmas can-can Halloween to Christmas day
It’s the most wonderful time of year we’re running mad with Christmas cheer
hey what’s troubling you my friend?
It’s not fair if your jewish, jewish (not fair if your Jewish, Jewish)
Dreidel, Dreidel, Dreidel I made it out of clay
You realize that Christmas ain’t the only holiday
Hey he’s right who made these laws
Look! Wait! Here comes Santa Claus, Santa Claus, Santa Claus, Santa Claus, Santa Claus (Santa, Santa, Santa, Santa, Santa, Santa, Santa, Santa)
Hey Santa do the can-can help them if you can-can join in the parade
All you need is a tree, some lights about a thousand presents
wrap them up and pray for snow
Run to your closet find your Christmas sweaters screaming carols all the way (fa-la-la-la-la)
Prance all the way to Indiana it’s the Christmas can-can that’s the end
Wait for our ending
We should share this holiday
I wanna give a happy Chanukah to you, a happy Chanukah to you, a happy Chanukah to you
A merry Christmas, Chanukah and also Kwanzaa. Merry
Christmas, happy Chanukah, and mer-ry Kwan-zaa too
On The Fourth Sunday Of Advent
She jumped…..
The day I posted my latest confession I was actually in church. I didn’t go to my church instead I responded to an invite I had received months before. At the time it came I was in no mood to attend. It would take too much work for just a few hours for one.
As usual Someone had something else in mind, just like He did in June.
I can’t even describe what happened to me or how such a thing would happen, but it did.
And all I can do is turn to Him…and say “Thanks.”
In my JV year I felt God was preparing me for something. What? I wasn’t sure.
So I did what I thought would be the best way to begin preparing. I went to the doctor. I had x-rays. I was asked if I was in any pain. I was shown my x-rays.
I never knew what knees were supposed to look like but I knew they weren’t supposed to look like mine did; and even if I didn’t know that the doctor & PA’s faces told me so.
God was giving me a choice. Clearly that’s what He was doing. I never felt anything like it before, and haven’t since. The choice was mine. I could go with what was being handed to me, the easy way, which I’ve always been praying for. Or I could take the harder road, but it was the one that was really in my best interest.
My biggest struggle, if you asked anyone who cared about me, was learning to take care of myself. Not just when, but how. After my 3rd sinus infection a NP ordered me to stay home, although she gave me a choice, “Would you like a note to be excused from work for one day, or two?”
I took one day.
So when I was faced with this much bigger decision. I wanted to fight for what I thought was best. What I wanted.
Instead I just left it up to fate.
I’d go with whatever worked out (instead of just stressing out over what the “right” thing to do was, another fault).
During the second week of September the plates went in to my hips and right ankle, along with a few screws (I say “few” knowing full well 4 screws are in my ankle alone).
I was doing this for me. I needed to get my life as I knew it, how I wanted it, and how I knew God intended it to be.
But I was doing it for me so I could do for others.
For over a year I waited to be able to do for others again. Up until last week I waited.
In a packed church I was the only one in a wheelchair. I was clearly drawing attention to myself, or at least I would at some point. I had intended to see my friends when I was “back to normal.” So what on earth was I doing here in a wheelchair?
I kept looking for people I knew during Mass, which is pretty difficult considering I was looking through a sea of habited nuns, and from the back. For a while I wondered if I really would see someone I knew.
As soon as Mass was over I was surrounded by Sisters, Sister MF and Sister AM being 2. It must’ve been a sight, 3 habited nuns kneeling around someone in a wheelchair, and it had to have looked somewhat Biblical.
A man came up to us and said how much he liked, or admired, people in wheelchairs. Thankfully Sister MF skillfully corrected the man telling him my situation was only temporary and part of a journey. I secretly hate telling people I’m not paralyzed, or whatever else they may think, because I think I’m bursting their bubble and I’ll come off as some sort of liar.
This kind of situation is not uncommon for me so I was grateful to get it over with and even more grateful that Sister MF stepped in for me.
Once downstairs (for the reception) I set off to find more Sisters. I wanted to say “hello.” Sister MF when to find Sister MAD for me, along with a few others, since it was near impossible to see people on my own.
No matter who I found myself talking to I kept gravitating to Sister MAD, that’s what happens when you spend nearly every day for 3 years crossing paths with someone and then you rarely see them, especially if they’re a nun. Sister MAD will tell you I’ll always look for ways to be near her, to grab her hand in particular since she’s one of the main people I used to help me in the communion line for years. It’s natural for me to literally reach for her when I need help, and she’s more than happy to do so, always. I’m not one to ask just anyone for help so when you make it into the “inner circle” you pretty much stay there.
Sisters MG & BM both confided in me that Sister MAD a fax to all the convents on the day of my surgery to ask the Sisters to pray for me.
“You mean, people in Toronto were praying for ME?” (It’s still such an odd concept to grasp)
“Well we knew that even though you were asleep and at peace the people working on you weren’t and we didn’t want them to (fall asleep) so we prayed for them too.”
That makes sense, a lot of sense, but I certainly wasn’t banking on it when I was being put under.
As I was leaving for the night a mother came up to me, “What’s your name?”
This isn’t weird, at all. “Sarah.”
“This is my daughter_____” (I forget her name) “She said, ‘I want to meet her because everyone knows who she is and I want to know her’”
The daughter has a disability, what I don’t know since it’s none of my business to be asking such questions, in my opinion. The interaction was short and not much came out of it but it got me thinking.
I’ve been shying away from so much, because I feel I don’t fit somewhere, because I don’t want to fit with that group, because I have no business putting myself up on a pedestal to be a role model for anybody……..
I could be an example. I could say, “There’s nothing wrong with you. You are exactly who and how you are intended to be. Just have faith, in God, and most importantly, in yourself. You are you. And you are meant to do great things, just as you are.”
I could say that without ever saying a word.
I need to stop thinking so much and just go for it. Whatever happens happens that’s it.
So on this the Fourth Sunday of Advent, I chose to jump and land wherever I may; because that’s where I’m meant to be.
Remind me often during this Advent season, O Lord Jesus,
that You are the Light that shines in the darkness.
You who came down to earth as the Greatest of All Gifts,
help me to achieve a clean heart
so that I may grow in closeness to you and your Mother.
Let this dance of waiting remind us that we are a people
called to bring fourth Christ into the world–
as Mary brought forth her Son in the wintry stillness
of the cave in Bethlehem.
Amen
-Prayer for Advent, Fulton Sheen
Thursday Thirteen
Thirteen Things I Like In “Alphabetical Order”
(part 1)
1. N.C.I.S.
2. (The) Ocean
3. Photography
4. Quiet
5. Riding
6. Swimming
7. Tetris
8. Under armor
9. Venodyne Boots
10. Washington (both of them)
11. Xylophones
12. YouTube
13. Zulu Patrol (the kids show)
True Story Tuesday
As much as I attempt to participate in this marvelous day hosted by Rachel (or Mr. Daddy) at Once Upon A Miracle this is the fist time an attempt ended in actual success.
I wanted to share a holiday story that doesn’t involve the business (and sometimes un-Christ-like) portions of Christmas, even though I’m a little late for Hanukkah.
During my missionary year we were required to do certain things. Hey, you sign a contract you keep to that contract, and it all ends up making great memories anyway, well most of it.
One of our requirements was to have “Spirituality Night” once a week; because my house had such random and opposite schedules to coordinate higher powers-that-be needed to step in and clear our schedules for us 2 nights a week.
With 4 (most of the time) people living under one roof you acquire a treasure troves worth of stories, moments, quotes, quirks, that you all laugh at, and happen to turn into lovely and equally awkward you-had-to-be-there moments (which is perfect for True Story Tuesday).
There were no other requirements of “Spirituality Night” other than to have them. Even thought it was a Jesuit rooted organization a night’s spiritual-ness didn’t have to be Jesuit rooted, or even Catholic, since no two volunteers are alike (like snowflakes).
I’m no stranger to exploring different faiths, I did study Islam in college & almost became a Scientologist for God’s sake. So when my housemate came home and expressed an interest in “going Jewish” (as I called it) for one of the 8 days of Hanukkah I was all in.
None of us had ever celebrated Hanukkah before so we needed to do a little research, or at least put together our ideas of it and have at least one person who had the most knowledge of it at the table.
You’d think someone might consider at least trying to get a rabbi, right?
Not the way we thought (although it would have been cool in its own way).
We did however have someone come over who had celebrated Hanukkah before; and no she isn’t Jewish (at least that night she wasn’t)
A menorah was brought over along with the challah, which was thought to be spelled “holla” for half the night. Latkes were made, which came out way better but less blue than the potato dumplings that later graced our Christmas Eve table weeks later.
Seriously, if you’ve never had a latke before I highly suggest you try one, at least one.
The candle was lit, prayers were said in our best Hebrew (which none of us really knew), dreidel was played, and fun was had by all; so much fun in fact that we decided to repeat the process the next day (or 2?) later.
Actually the conversation to “go Jewish” again went something like this, at least as I was told (and as best I can remember).
“So we were talking in the office today about how much fun Hanukkah was and then _______ said….”
Wait before I tell you what came next I need to fill you in on a few more details…..
One of the other requirements of our service contract was that we use no community money to purchase alcohol. There were no rules against it other than that but it was strongly suggested during orientation that communities try having a “dry month.”
We had every intention of doing a “dry month,” and my being on meds that had a DO NOT CONSUME ALCHOL WHILE ON THIS MEDICATION sticker across it helped my decision. I could stay on my meds and feel some sort of solidarity with my new housemates.
Well that was the intention……
There’s a funny thing that happens when you arrive as the newest group of volunteers in town when the town has been having volunteers longer than you’ve been alive.
They know about the contract you signed.
That first month wasn’t so dry.
In fact we later came to the conclusion that in the first month in town we drank more in one month that we ever have before, none of us were real big drinkers after all, and turning people down could be seen as being ungrateful (and I did not drink while medicated, incase you were wondering).
(God bless the Northwest and it’s seeming abundance of microbreweries )
Now back to the actual story:
“So we were talking in the office today about how much fun Hanukkah was and then _______ said….”
“What’s Hanukkah, does it involve drinking?”
“So they’re coming over tonight so we can have Hanukkah again, and _______ is bringing some wine”
Although the second time around didn’t go the same way the first did, which wasn’t anyone’s real intention.
On the “second night of Hanukkah” the menorah wasn’t used, or even brought over if I remember right, and there was no “holla,” and the latkes? We heated up the leftovers. (Don’t ask me how we had leftover Latkes but if I had known about them they wouldn’t have been there.)
Hours later we were still seated around the dining room table talking, laughing, and enjoying our second round of bottles of wine. I think we drank 3 between us in a considerably long period of time. I think after midnight we forgot about the holy day and just unwound, and had a great time.
I woke up the next day with a stomachache, but it wasn’t from the wine and/or latkes. I just spent the night laughing THAT hard.
I guess that’s what happens when Catholics celebrate Jewish holidays without proper council……..
But I’d do it again any day
