reasons i'm blessed (as of Monday, November 22, 2010):
- i didn't get a ticket on friday for my California roll through a dorm stop sign
- i WILL end up being able to direct/act in the play i wrote (which is going up at The Empty Space this February & March)
- i'm pretty sure i nailed my Judicial Powers Under the Constitution final this morning
- my professor said i can send my paper in late, as long as i get it in one way or another, which is awesome cause i lost my prompt & wasn't sure what exactly i was supposed to write on, so i was going to just accept my zero & move on, but now i have a chance to still get some credit for it :D
- my mom just bought peanut butter pretzels from Costco
- i was cast in New Kid (the traveling children's show at CSUB)
- the kid's show is double cast & kamala put cody & i together for our cast :DDD
- my friends are kind of amazing
- i get to spend quality time with my wonderful family this week when we go up to San Jose for Thanksgiving
- mark's paying for us to go to a Blackhawks/Sharks game while we're up there :D
- last time i went to the GI, he said my blood tests show that I'm no longer anemic & that all of my inflammatory markers were down :DDDDD
- Jesus loves me
so overall, life is pretty swell right now. i'm so so so so grateful to God.
peace 'n' blessin's,
mjl.
ps...i'm currently an expert on state/federal governments' powers to tax/spend as well as what they're constitutionally allowed to regulate as far as inter & intrastate commerce is concerned & which Supreme Court cases established all of that, so if anyone has any questions about any of that, you have about 12 more hours before it's all completely out of my brain & i become an expert on the supposed "myths" of the free market economy for tomorrow's final
Monday, November 22, 2010
Monday, November 8, 2010
blessed.
In my limited vocabulary, that's the only word I can muster up to describe how I feel.
Utterly & abundantly blessed.
I got a call from my wonderful, and most favorite, director, Zoe Saba, today during which she informed me that my performance as Madame Pernelle in CSUB's production of Tartuffe had earned me a nomination to compete at Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival's Irene Ryan Acting Competition!
This is my second nomination, and, honestly, I couldn't be happier for a number of reasons.
First, this role of the crotchety grandma (who according to a lovely review from our new dean of Arts & Humanities was a blend of Hamlet's Polonius & The Importance of Being Earnest's Lady Bracknell) was not one that I chose or wanted, but was assigned to me because I was the best fit with who we had audition for the other roles. But along the rehearsal process, I, with the help of my lovely director, was able to explore and really play & discover this crazy Julia Childs/Nathan Lane a la Birdcage character, and I ended up really loving her.
Second, six months ago, I was stuck in a hospital bed wondering if I'd ever be able to act or do shows again. Even 8 weeks ago, when Zoe talked to me about being in the show and asked if I was healthy, I told her yes, but still felt that gnawing fear in the back of my mind that I really didn't know if I was going to get sick again somewhere down the line of the rehearsal or performance process. Yet after all the ER trips, hospital stays, doctor visits, and fears, I was able to perform again. I was able to do what I love and what, I feel, God created me to do. And, not only that, but I was recognized for the talents God's given me & rewarded for them.
So naturally, when my dad brought up the fact that it was so wonderful seeing me up on stage doing what I love rather than stuck writhing in a hospital bed, I started tearing up, simply because of this entry's namesake...
I felt blessed.
So extremely blessed and joyous that God has given me so, so much.
Now is your time of grief, but I will see you again and you will rejoice, and no one will take away your joy.
-john 16:22-
♥
mjl.
Utterly & abundantly blessed.
I got a call from my wonderful, and most favorite, director, Zoe Saba, today during which she informed me that my performance as Madame Pernelle in CSUB's production of Tartuffe had earned me a nomination to compete at Kennedy Center American College Theatre Festival's Irene Ryan Acting Competition!
This is my second nomination, and, honestly, I couldn't be happier for a number of reasons.
First, this role of the crotchety grandma (who according to a lovely review from our new dean of Arts & Humanities was a blend of Hamlet's Polonius & The Importance of Being Earnest's Lady Bracknell) was not one that I chose or wanted, but was assigned to me because I was the best fit with who we had audition for the other roles. But along the rehearsal process, I, with the help of my lovely director, was able to explore and really play & discover this crazy Julia Childs/Nathan Lane a la Birdcage character, and I ended up really loving her.
Second, six months ago, I was stuck in a hospital bed wondering if I'd ever be able to act or do shows again. Even 8 weeks ago, when Zoe talked to me about being in the show and asked if I was healthy, I told her yes, but still felt that gnawing fear in the back of my mind that I really didn't know if I was going to get sick again somewhere down the line of the rehearsal or performance process. Yet after all the ER trips, hospital stays, doctor visits, and fears, I was able to perform again. I was able to do what I love and what, I feel, God created me to do. And, not only that, but I was recognized for the talents God's given me & rewarded for them.
So naturally, when my dad brought up the fact that it was so wonderful seeing me up on stage doing what I love rather than stuck writhing in a hospital bed, I started tearing up, simply because of this entry's namesake...
I felt blessed.
So extremely blessed and joyous that God has given me so, so much.
-john 16:22-
♥
mjl.
Monday, October 25, 2010
as i said before, i'm grotesquely sentimental...
alright, it's official: i was born in the wrong time period and color saturation.
it's clear to me now that i was obviously supposed to live in a romantic, black & white film that they show on repeat on Turner Classic Movies.
Now just picture me in place of Julie Andrews (;
i like to think of myself as a stoic, proud, and emotionless robot, so indulging in romantic, old, war films is as close to love as i feel like i may ever get, and that's alright with me. because, honestly, rather than thinking of the depressing state in which love and romance seem to have fallen, i'd like to live with the romanticized notion that the man with whom i fall in love will be a James Garner, Carey Grant, or Jimmy Stewart-type, that each quarrel we fight will be costumed in billowing trench coats & fedoras, dreamily lit by a dimly glowing lamp post, our words nearly drowned out by the rain pouring dramatically in the background, barely covering the dull roar of the plane that threatens to carry one of us away, and all of it finally resolved by a kiss which will be accompanied by the amorous flow of beauty and passion that is released by the simple stroke of bow to violin string.
is that too much to ask?
affectionately yours,
mjl.
it's clear to me now that i was obviously supposed to live in a romantic, black & white film that they show on repeat on Turner Classic Movies.
i like to think of myself as a stoic, proud, and emotionless robot, so indulging in romantic, old, war films is as close to love as i feel like i may ever get, and that's alright with me. because, honestly, rather than thinking of the depressing state in which love and romance seem to have fallen, i'd like to live with the romanticized notion that the man with whom i fall in love will be a James Garner, Carey Grant, or Jimmy Stewart-type, that each quarrel we fight will be costumed in billowing trench coats & fedoras, dreamily lit by a dimly glowing lamp post, our words nearly drowned out by the rain pouring dramatically in the background, barely covering the dull roar of the plane that threatens to carry one of us away, and all of it finally resolved by a kiss which will be accompanied by the amorous flow of beauty and passion that is released by the simple stroke of bow to violin string.
is that too much to ask?
affectionately yours,
mjl.
Saturday, October 16, 2010
Alles Gute Zum Geburtstag Faj!!!
I forgot to mention, today is my faj's birthday!!
52 years ago today, in Manhattan, KS, my faj was the brave little fetus that could that navigated his way through the birth canal & became born...YAY!! Happy birthday, daddy! I love you!
mjl.
52 years ago today, in Manhattan, KS, my faj was the brave little fetus that could that navigated his way through the birth canal & became born...YAY!! Happy birthday, daddy! I love you!
mjl.
to sleep, perchance to dream
If you knew you were going to die tomorrow, what would you do? I don't mean typical bucket list shenanigans like sky diving, Rocky Mountain climbing, and all that jazz that country music folk sing about, but rather, what unfinished business, if any, would you attend to? Is there someone you need to apologize to? Forgive? Tell someone something that you've been holding onto but could never quite bring yourself to say out loud?
Last night I had a dream that, for whatever the reason may have been, my dad was privy to the knowledge that my entire, immediate family was going to be with Jesus (not necessarily in a "we're all going to die a sudden death" sense, but more like "The Last Battle"/Narnia/Elijah sense where we were just going to leave this world behind & go to Heaven with God). This was accompanied by the stipulation that we all had one day to get our things in order before we had to leave.
Now, were I an allegorical Everyman of Medieval proportions, I may have tried to gather up my good deeds & what not and prepare my case for St Peter & his Book O' Life at the Pearly Gates, however, being the sensible little Lutheran that I am, I think even my dream self understood that faith in Christ & his grace are all I'll need. And besides, obviously I already knew I was going to be with Jesus, so the fear of the actual departure from this world to Heaven wasn't really a pressing issue.
But I digress...
I then found myself in a huge house that was seemingly overrun by nearly everyone with whom I've ever done theatre. As everyone frantically scrambled around with costumes & set pieces in hand, I stood in the midst of the chaos, overcome, not so much by the fear of death or leaving this world behind, but by the fact that I had about a dozen of those damn, proverbial albatrosses hanging around my neck like some God-forsaken sea mariner straight out of a sophomore Lit. class; each albatross had a name & a confession that my stoic & rejection-phobic nature had been diligently hiding away over the years.
(Just to clear things up, there were no actual dream fowls of symbolism hanging about my neck...just the staggering weight of untold confessions...and only about 3 or 4, though it felt like a dozen)
As I watched the familiar faces of my fellow actors pass me by, the stress and fear of actually finding the few with whom I knew I needed to speak was overwhelming. As much as I knew I needed to get those feelings off my chest, the prospect of facing these people to do it was terrifying.
The first person I needed to find came quickly, and, as it turned out, the thing I needed to say to this person was not painful at all. I found him sitting on the ground, but as soon as I finally made my way over to him, I felt myself being pulled away to find the next, harder confessee (? Person to whom I needed to confess) so I quickly shouted, "I've always cared about you!" He looked up, slightly confused, yet somehow content, as I was pulled away. Honestly, I'm not sure why my dream self wanted to say that to this particular person, but oh well, such is dream life.
The next person was the hardest I would have to face. Whatever was moving me pulled me outside of the house and into the front yard where I saw him, or rather the person playing him, standing. For, you see, the person I saw before me looked nothing like the young man I was looking for, but somehow I knew it was him. I couldn't tell you who exactly he did look like because he seemed to be made up of features from several young men I've known, most of whom have had little to no lasting significance on my life.
So I tried to approach this strange looking man, who I knew was the person I needed to talk to, but was obstructed from doing so by several actors who jumped in front of me, demanding an explanation to the rumors they'd heard about me leaving for someplace far away the next day. After pushing them aside & promising them an explanation later I finally made my way to the young man. Now, if you knew what my dream self wanted to say to this young man (& taking into account the fact that I only had one day left on Earth), you'd understand why it was so hard for me to confront him. And, were I a braver soul, I might divulge what my dream self did say, but, seeing as this confession lay just a little too close for comfort to some of my real feelings, I'll leave it to your imaginations to think of something terribly witty or romantic or heart-breaking for my dream-self to say.
Now, because this confession did hit so close to home & did involve a lot of emotional gar-baj, I began to cry. As this happened, the young man began to get pulled away as I had been before so I blurted out, "Yes, I'm leaving for some place far away tomorrow, but I wanted you to know, before I left, that *insert your imaginary response for what I might have said*!!" At my saying this, the young man stopped & he too began to cry, but, much to my horror, he had been pulled out into the busy street where he was nearly hit by a car, but was pulled out of the way just in time. (bizarre, I know, but I don't choose the dreams, I just experience them)
Thankfully, I woke up after that fiasco, a little disappointed that I wasn't able to find my last couple of people to whom I owed a talk, but relieved nonetheless that it was all just a dream. (the other confessions also hit too close to reality for me to reveal what/whom they were concerning, so feel free to use your imagination once again)
So what's the moral of this story? Could it be a sign from God that I need to let these people in my life know my true feelings for them? Or is it simply a sign that I probably shouldn't preface my bedtime with Talladega Frights, some melatonin, and an MTV2 marathon of Viva la Bam? Either way, it definitely got me thinking about what unfinished business I would tie up if I knew I were going to be with my savior tomorrow, which, if nothing else, has provided me with material for this crazy blog entry. So, hopefully you too have now been provoked into thinking about the morbid fact of life that is your impending death, how you're going to spend the rest of your life, and how you'll treat the people in it.
until next time,
mjl.
Last night I had a dream that, for whatever the reason may have been, my dad was privy to the knowledge that my entire, immediate family was going to be with Jesus (not necessarily in a "we're all going to die a sudden death" sense, but more like "The Last Battle"/Narnia/Elijah sense where we were just going to leave this world behind & go to Heaven with God). This was accompanied by the stipulation that we all had one day to get our things in order before we had to leave.
Now, were I an allegorical Everyman of Medieval proportions, I may have tried to gather up my good deeds & what not and prepare my case for St Peter & his Book O' Life at the Pearly Gates, however, being the sensible little Lutheran that I am, I think even my dream self understood that faith in Christ & his grace are all I'll need. And besides, obviously I already knew I was going to be with Jesus, so the fear of the actual departure from this world to Heaven wasn't really a pressing issue.
But I digress...
I then found myself in a huge house that was seemingly overrun by nearly everyone with whom I've ever done theatre. As everyone frantically scrambled around with costumes & set pieces in hand, I stood in the midst of the chaos, overcome, not so much by the fear of death or leaving this world behind, but by the fact that I had about a dozen of those damn, proverbial albatrosses hanging around my neck like some God-forsaken sea mariner straight out of a sophomore Lit. class; each albatross had a name & a confession that my stoic & rejection-phobic nature had been diligently hiding away over the years.
(Just to clear things up, there were no actual dream fowls of symbolism hanging about my neck...just the staggering weight of untold confessions...and only about 3 or 4, though it felt like a dozen)
As I watched the familiar faces of my fellow actors pass me by, the stress and fear of actually finding the few with whom I knew I needed to speak was overwhelming. As much as I knew I needed to get those feelings off my chest, the prospect of facing these people to do it was terrifying.
The first person I needed to find came quickly, and, as it turned out, the thing I needed to say to this person was not painful at all. I found him sitting on the ground, but as soon as I finally made my way over to him, I felt myself being pulled away to find the next, harder confessee (? Person to whom I needed to confess) so I quickly shouted, "I've always cared about you!" He looked up, slightly confused, yet somehow content, as I was pulled away. Honestly, I'm not sure why my dream self wanted to say that to this particular person, but oh well, such is dream life.
The next person was the hardest I would have to face. Whatever was moving me pulled me outside of the house and into the front yard where I saw him, or rather the person playing him, standing. For, you see, the person I saw before me looked nothing like the young man I was looking for, but somehow I knew it was him. I couldn't tell you who exactly he did look like because he seemed to be made up of features from several young men I've known, most of whom have had little to no lasting significance on my life.
So I tried to approach this strange looking man, who I knew was the person I needed to talk to, but was obstructed from doing so by several actors who jumped in front of me, demanding an explanation to the rumors they'd heard about me leaving for someplace far away the next day. After pushing them aside & promising them an explanation later I finally made my way to the young man. Now, if you knew what my dream self wanted to say to this young man (& taking into account the fact that I only had one day left on Earth), you'd understand why it was so hard for me to confront him. And, were I a braver soul, I might divulge what my dream self did say, but, seeing as this confession lay just a little too close for comfort to some of my real feelings, I'll leave it to your imaginations to think of something terribly witty or romantic or heart-breaking for my dream-self to say.
Now, because this confession did hit so close to home & did involve a lot of emotional gar-baj, I began to cry. As this happened, the young man began to get pulled away as I had been before so I blurted out, "Yes, I'm leaving for some place far away tomorrow, but I wanted you to know, before I left, that *insert your imaginary response for what I might have said*!!" At my saying this, the young man stopped & he too began to cry, but, much to my horror, he had been pulled out into the busy street where he was nearly hit by a car, but was pulled out of the way just in time. (bizarre, I know, but I don't choose the dreams, I just experience them)
Thankfully, I woke up after that fiasco, a little disappointed that I wasn't able to find my last couple of people to whom I owed a talk, but relieved nonetheless that it was all just a dream. (the other confessions also hit too close to reality for me to reveal what/whom they were concerning, so feel free to use your imagination once again)
So what's the moral of this story? Could it be a sign from God that I need to let these people in my life know my true feelings for them? Or is it simply a sign that I probably shouldn't preface my bedtime with Talladega Frights, some melatonin, and an MTV2 marathon of Viva la Bam? Either way, it definitely got me thinking about what unfinished business I would tie up if I knew I were going to be with my savior tomorrow, which, if nothing else, has provided me with material for this crazy blog entry. So, hopefully you too have now been provoked into thinking about the morbid fact of life that is your impending death, how you're going to spend the rest of your life, and how you'll treat the people in it.
until next time,
mjl.
Wednesday, September 1, 2010
adieu, summer vacation, adieu
Summer vacation is almost over, to which I would like to respond with loud and resounding boo's and hisses. Were I to watch the change in seasons on a stage, I would undoubtedly be throwing my rotten cabbages and tomatoes at the poor techie changing the scene from the boiling hot, lazy days of August into the slightly less boiling hot, busy school days of September. This would be followed by a diva tantrum in which I storm out of the theatre & demand a refund for the garbage I was just forced to sit through.
Nah, I'm just kidding. I'm actually kind of looking forward to school. It'll be nice to have something to do besides sitting at home cleaning, watching tv, or reading (not that I don't love doing those things, it'll just be nice to have a change).
As I look back on my summer, however, I realize that this has been both one of the most uneventful and eventful summers of my life. Very paradoxical, non?
Uneventful in the fact that I went practically nowhere except my aunt and uncle's beach house in Morro Bay, which, don't get me wrong, I absolutely love going to, and did practically nothing, which was also kind of wonderful because I read over 20 books, including The Bible :D, and got through 6 seasons of 24 with my family. So uneventful was not necessarily a bad thing, especially when you consider the super eventfulness that happened at the beginning of my summer...
So, as most of you all remember (if you don't, feel free to scroll down the page a bit and look at my last blog entry), I was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease this past May.
**UPDATE**
Apparently, some of my more recent blood tests were negative for Crohn's and suggest that I do actually have Colitis. UGH! Make up your freaking mind already! I don't really care either way because the symptoms and treatments are pretty much identical, so it's pretty much a six of one, half a dozen of the other type ordeal. My mom still wants me to go down to UCLA Medical at some point though to see if the specialists down there can figure out what exactly I have.
So yeah, going back to my earlier comments about summer...it was really nice having such a relaxing summer after the first couple months of it being filled with hospital stays and doctor visits.
But really, this whole ordeal has been kind of a blessing. I mean, it sucked having to lose my role in two different shows I'd been cast in, and obviously staying in the hospital for so long is not ideal, but having this disease has really made me a stronger person and strengthened my faith and relationship with my Heavenly Father.
And really, you have to strengthen up when you go through things like this because if you let all the negatives get you down, then your life is going to be utterly miserable.
Not that I can even compare my situation to Job's in the slightest, but one can't deny his archetypal position of authority in history when it comes to keeping faith in the face of suffering, so I'm going to reference him. After being told by his "friends" that he was only going through tremendous pain & suffering because of his own sins & questioning why he kept in the faith, he responds, "Will you argue the case for God? Would it turn out well if he examined you? Keep silent and let me speak; then let come to me what may. Why do I put myself in jeopardy and take my life in my hands? Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him; I will surely defend my ways to his face."
I think that is definitely one of the hardest things to ever remember in times of trouble...EVER! Cause honestly, no one wants to go up to the person who allows something bad to happen and kiss them gently on the forehead. It's not going to happen. Yet we are called to continue to love and praise our Heavenly Father even when bad things are happening around us.
Now, granted, when it comes to things like people murdering each other, that's not of God (even though people like to say it's God's fault for "letting it happen"). He created us with free will, and with that comes the consequence and possibility of people who will use that free will for naught. You can't have your free will and eat it too.
But when it comes to stuff like what I went through...medical problems...it gets a little more difficult. It was really easy to question God at first & wonder why he was letting me get really sick & have to lose some amazing roles in the shows I'd been cast in, but now that I've gone through it all (or at least, the worst part, so they tell me), I can honestly say that I'm grateful to God for allowing me to have this disease.
I feel like I've grown so much in my level of maturity, my appreciation of life, and my faith, and if my experiences with being sick can affect one person in a positive way, then that would make those weeks in the hospital all worth it. Maybe my being sick will allow me to have a conversation with someone at some point in which the Holy Spirit may use me & shine his love into that person's heart...or maybe my colitis will have no effect on anyone else whatsoever...I don't know, and, honestly, I suppose it doesn't really matter because, whatever the case, God has already used this disease to help me grow in such tremendous and wonderful ways.
Alright, enough about my colon...let's get back to the topic at hand which was saying auf wiedersehen to my summer vacation. It's been fun, and we should definitely do it again sometime real soon.
big kisses,
mjl.
Nah, I'm just kidding. I'm actually kind of looking forward to school. It'll be nice to have something to do besides sitting at home cleaning, watching tv, or reading (not that I don't love doing those things, it'll just be nice to have a change).
As I look back on my summer, however, I realize that this has been both one of the most uneventful and eventful summers of my life. Very paradoxical, non?
Uneventful in the fact that I went practically nowhere except my aunt and uncle's beach house in Morro Bay, which, don't get me wrong, I absolutely love going to, and did practically nothing, which was also kind of wonderful because I read over 20 books, including The Bible :D, and got through 6 seasons of 24 with my family. So uneventful was not necessarily a bad thing, especially when you consider the super eventfulness that happened at the beginning of my summer...
So, as most of you all remember (if you don't, feel free to scroll down the page a bit and look at my last blog entry), I was diagnosed with Crohn's Disease this past May.
**UPDATE**
Apparently, some of my more recent blood tests were negative for Crohn's and suggest that I do actually have Colitis. UGH! Make up your freaking mind already! I don't really care either way because the symptoms and treatments are pretty much identical, so it's pretty much a six of one, half a dozen of the other type ordeal. My mom still wants me to go down to UCLA Medical at some point though to see if the specialists down there can figure out what exactly I have.
So yeah, going back to my earlier comments about summer...it was really nice having such a relaxing summer after the first couple months of it being filled with hospital stays and doctor visits.
But really, this whole ordeal has been kind of a blessing. I mean, it sucked having to lose my role in two different shows I'd been cast in, and obviously staying in the hospital for so long is not ideal, but having this disease has really made me a stronger person and strengthened my faith and relationship with my Heavenly Father.
And really, you have to strengthen up when you go through things like this because if you let all the negatives get you down, then your life is going to be utterly miserable.
Not that I can even compare my situation to Job's in the slightest, but one can't deny his archetypal position of authority in history when it comes to keeping faith in the face of suffering, so I'm going to reference him. After being told by his "friends" that he was only going through tremendous pain & suffering because of his own sins & questioning why he kept in the faith, he responds, "Will you argue the case for God? Would it turn out well if he examined you? Keep silent and let me speak; then let come to me what may. Why do I put myself in jeopardy and take my life in my hands? Though he slay me, yet will I hope in him; I will surely defend my ways to his face."
I think that is definitely one of the hardest things to ever remember in times of trouble...EVER! Cause honestly, no one wants to go up to the person who allows something bad to happen and kiss them gently on the forehead. It's not going to happen. Yet we are called to continue to love and praise our Heavenly Father even when bad things are happening around us.
Now, granted, when it comes to things like people murdering each other, that's not of God (even though people like to say it's God's fault for "letting it happen"). He created us with free will, and with that comes the consequence and possibility of people who will use that free will for naught. You can't have your free will and eat it too.
But when it comes to stuff like what I went through...medical problems...it gets a little more difficult. It was really easy to question God at first & wonder why he was letting me get really sick & have to lose some amazing roles in the shows I'd been cast in, but now that I've gone through it all (or at least, the worst part, so they tell me), I can honestly say that I'm grateful to God for allowing me to have this disease.
I feel like I've grown so much in my level of maturity, my appreciation of life, and my faith, and if my experiences with being sick can affect one person in a positive way, then that would make those weeks in the hospital all worth it. Maybe my being sick will allow me to have a conversation with someone at some point in which the Holy Spirit may use me & shine his love into that person's heart...or maybe my colitis will have no effect on anyone else whatsoever...I don't know, and, honestly, I suppose it doesn't really matter because, whatever the case, God has already used this disease to help me grow in such tremendous and wonderful ways.
Alright, enough about my colon...let's get back to the topic at hand which was saying auf wiedersehen to my summer vacation. It's been fun, and we should definitely do it again sometime real soon.
big kisses,
mjl.
Friday, June 18, 2010
sick
Hello my loverly readers! It is I, your fearless blogger, back from the proverbial dead of not having written in this poor, neglected weblog in ever so long.
Now, I'm sure you're probably asking yourself,
"Self? Why has this little blogger spent such an inordinate amount of time away from indulging in the wonderfully fulfilling narcissism that is writing about oneself in a blog?"
Well, my dears, the answer is quite simple.
I have been caught in an epic battle of Odyssean proportions between myself and a lovely little disease called Crohn's.
I was going to write some long, drawn out explanation of everything that's been going on with me & my intestines, but I'm thinking the bulleted, highlights version may be an easier read, so here we go.
- May 10-13: hospitalized in Memorial.
- found out GoLytely is the most vile liquid known to all living species
- had a colonoscopy
- was told I had Ulcerative Colitis (an Irritable Bowel Disease that makes you feel really sick after eating almost anything & also causes small ulcers to appear on your colon)
- found out that if you accidentally lean on the nurse call button, they will respond right away, but if you actually are in dire need of something, the nurses will take their dear, sweet time getting back to you
- Weeks after Hospitalization
- felt great
- was able to eat food without feeling as sick as I had before
- was told I actually didn't have Ulcerative Colitis, but that my biopsy showed that I have Crohn's Disease (this was apparently a step up because the chances of me getting colon cancer decreased A LOT since Crohn's can incorporate ulcers & all that fun stuff all over your intestines rather than just in a concentrated party in your colon)
- started getting sick again
- started getting REALLY sick
- started getting so sick that everything that went into my mouth (food, water, etc) was being vomited back out within a matter of minutes
- was admitted to two different ERs twice within a few days because of fever spikes, vomiting, and the most randomly awful neck spasm that Amy thought may have been meningitis (...thankfully, it wasn't)
- was admitted to the ER once more, but rather than getting to go home after 6 hrs like the other times, was told that I would have to be admitted to the hospital
- June 2-11: hospitalized in Mercy (on Truxtun)
- had Barium Swallow, Endoscopy, and several more blood tests done to try & figure out what was wrong with me
- was finally put on Prednisone steroids since the inflammation in my intestines was too much to be treated by Asacol
- went through 3 different roommates (lady who was gone within my first night there, Swamp Monster, and black lady whose entire Huxtable family came to visit)
- went through a cycle of nausea, fatigue, and a brief fever spike every morning followed by feeling fine in the afternoons & evenings, only to have the same process repeat the next day
- mom argued with on-sight physician who wanted to let me go home early even though they didn't know why my temperature kept spiking...things got ugly
- Infection specialist had to be called in to see if she could figure out what was wrong...more tests followed
- got a new GI (thank God) who has the coolest British accent
- it was finally decided that my fever spikes were just byproducts of Crohn's disease & that I could carry on at home since my nausea and vomiting had gone away...HOORAY!
So that pretty much sums up the end of my junior year/beginning of my summer...got to run...more to follow.
mjl.
Now, I'm sure you're probably asking yourself,
"Self? Why has this little blogger spent such an inordinate amount of time away from indulging in the wonderfully fulfilling narcissism that is writing about oneself in a blog?"
Well, my dears, the answer is quite simple.
I have been caught in an epic battle of Odyssean proportions between myself and a lovely little disease called Crohn's.
I was going to write some long, drawn out explanation of everything that's been going on with me & my intestines, but I'm thinking the bulleted, highlights version may be an easier read, so here we go.
- May 10-13: hospitalized in Memorial.
- found out GoLytely is the most vile liquid known to all living species
- had a colonoscopy
- was told I had Ulcerative Colitis (an Irritable Bowel Disease that makes you feel really sick after eating almost anything & also causes small ulcers to appear on your colon)
- found out that if you accidentally lean on the nurse call button, they will respond right away, but if you actually are in dire need of something, the nurses will take their dear, sweet time getting back to you
- Weeks after Hospitalization
- felt great
- was able to eat food without feeling as sick as I had before
- was told I actually didn't have Ulcerative Colitis, but that my biopsy showed that I have Crohn's Disease (this was apparently a step up because the chances of me getting colon cancer decreased A LOT since Crohn's can incorporate ulcers & all that fun stuff all over your intestines rather than just in a concentrated party in your colon)
- started getting sick again
- started getting REALLY sick
- started getting so sick that everything that went into my mouth (food, water, etc) was being vomited back out within a matter of minutes
- was admitted to two different ERs twice within a few days because of fever spikes, vomiting, and the most randomly awful neck spasm that Amy thought may have been meningitis (...thankfully, it wasn't)
- was admitted to the ER once more, but rather than getting to go home after 6 hrs like the other times, was told that I would have to be admitted to the hospital
- June 2-11: hospitalized in Mercy (on Truxtun)
- had Barium Swallow, Endoscopy, and several more blood tests done to try & figure out what was wrong with me
- was finally put on Prednisone steroids since the inflammation in my intestines was too much to be treated by Asacol
- went through 3 different roommates (lady who was gone within my first night there, Swamp Monster, and black lady whose entire Huxtable family came to visit)
- went through a cycle of nausea, fatigue, and a brief fever spike every morning followed by feeling fine in the afternoons & evenings, only to have the same process repeat the next day
- mom argued with on-sight physician who wanted to let me go home early even though they didn't know why my temperature kept spiking...things got ugly
- Infection specialist had to be called in to see if she could figure out what was wrong...more tests followed
- got a new GI (thank God) who has the coolest British accent
- it was finally decided that my fever spikes were just byproducts of Crohn's disease & that I could carry on at home since my nausea and vomiting had gone away...HOORAY!
So that pretty much sums up the end of my junior year/beginning of my summer...got to run...more to follow.
mjl.
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