Everyone as well as myself was wondering when this would finally be over.
I was so happy that I was finally feeling good. I was finally healthy. We called the doctor and they told us not to worry because these were probably some smaller pieces of the kidney stones that were passing through. Thankfully, these pieces weren't as excruciating as they were in February.
The most pain I felt was pain over once again having to give up my teenage life. Once again good health was dangled in front of my face, but kept out of my reach. I did everything I knew to do so I could get better, but it wasn't enough.
We made the decision that no matter when I got better, I would continue the rest of the year on home bound schooling and return to school in the fall for my junior year. The choice was daunting, but necessary. Leaving school for the third time was almost as painful as the pain involved with my endometriosis and kidney stones.
I worked so hard for nothing and I was back in bed. Everyone was getting restless. Every day I tried my hardest to work towards good health, but my pain never went down. I got on a new hormone therapy-- third time is a charm, and worked my way back from square one... again.
Because everyone was restless, tensions were high. The stress kept me in pain. People walked out of my life, and looking back, I know now that it was for the best. It was painful then, and I finally got to the heartache that people my age go through, instead of the endometriosis pain that was not normal for a fifteen year old. It was so hard to work as hard as I could to get better for people, just for them to walk out of my life as soon as I showed any bit of improvement. It was so hard. But I'd been through enough, that I wasn't going to let anyone take away the future I had worked for. Through the pain, I had worked. Through the tears, I had worked. When there was no one by my side, I had worked. And I was not about to give up now.
Each day, I continued to grow stronger and stronger. I stopped taking pain medicine and started learning how to work through the pain. Each day, I started seeing health I had never seen before. Each day, I returned to the person I hadn't seen for a full year. Each day, I returned more and more to myself. And I knew now that this is the feeling I had worked so hard for. This moment right now was the reward I had suffered through a year for. I was finally better. And the day I realized just how healthy I was, was the happiest feeling I had ever felt in my short fifteen years of life.
Wednesday, May 16, 2012
March
After a rough and painful month of passing kidney stones, I went back to school and began to get back into the swing of things. It was weird being in bed one day, and back in school the next. The pain went down over night and it was time to start getting my life back.
Although I was more than over-joyed to go back to school, it was such a familiar feeling. How many times would I have to come back to school before I got to stay there? But this time was different, this time just felt right.
I woke up every morning to go to school and although I had some sense of direction, I felt totally lost. For the past year, my only goal has been healing and returning back to good health. And now that I was healthy, I had no idea what I wanted to do with myself. I was so excited to be back with the friends that I missed so much and I was so excited to be back to the routine I'd craved, but every day I didn't know what I wanted to do, my positive mood started going down hill.
I got up, went to school, got home, slept, and worked until I couldn't hold my eyes open any longer to catch up on my school work. Since I'd been in such severe pain, I wasn't getting much school work done, and since I came back to school so unexpectedly, I was so far behind the rest of my classes that there was no time to stop and complain. I could not stop now. I'd made it so far to come back. I worked through so much pain. This is all I wanted when I was sick, but all of the sudden I had no idea what I wanted any more.
Spring break was a blessing. I spent every day with my friends and spent some time being able to be healthy and happy with the people I had worked so hard to get better for. All of the sudden, something went wrong. I went from laughing and smiling and running and swimming with my best friends over spring break, to not being able to get out of bed. And I just didn't understand why.
Why this kept happening. What I did wrong. Why I couldn't just be healthy. Why no one else had to go through this.
And I think everyone around me was starting to wonder the same. Everyone else was getting just as tired of this as I was.
Although I was more than over-joyed to go back to school, it was such a familiar feeling. How many times would I have to come back to school before I got to stay there? But this time was different, this time just felt right.
I woke up every morning to go to school and although I had some sense of direction, I felt totally lost. For the past year, my only goal has been healing and returning back to good health. And now that I was healthy, I had no idea what I wanted to do with myself. I was so excited to be back with the friends that I missed so much and I was so excited to be back to the routine I'd craved, but every day I didn't know what I wanted to do, my positive mood started going down hill.
I got up, went to school, got home, slept, and worked until I couldn't hold my eyes open any longer to catch up on my school work. Since I'd been in such severe pain, I wasn't getting much school work done, and since I came back to school so unexpectedly, I was so far behind the rest of my classes that there was no time to stop and complain. I could not stop now. I'd made it so far to come back. I worked through so much pain. This is all I wanted when I was sick, but all of the sudden I had no idea what I wanted any more.
Spring break was a blessing. I spent every day with my friends and spent some time being able to be healthy and happy with the people I had worked so hard to get better for. All of the sudden, something went wrong. I went from laughing and smiling and running and swimming with my best friends over spring break, to not being able to get out of bed. And I just didn't understand why.
Why this kept happening. What I did wrong. Why I couldn't just be healthy. Why no one else had to go through this.
And I think everyone around me was starting to wonder the same. Everyone else was getting just as tired of this as I was.
Friday, March 2, 2012
February Pictures
(First ambulence ride as well as our first snowfall of February. I was so sad to be laying, what felt like half-alive, in a hospital bed while having to watch everyones' cute pictures in the snow on Facebook, but I made it, and soon got to take cute snow pictures of my own- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
(I didn't feel good and I was tired. Needless to say I was not a happy camper- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
(Trying to keep myself happy and in good spirits through my CT scan- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
(Five doses of morphine and about seven doses of anti-nausea medication had finally gotten to me- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
(My first jumping picture in about a year. When I hit the ground, I cried tears of joys instead of tears of pain- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
(My friends and I at our school's playoff basketball game- Sophomore year, February of 2011)
(My first day back at school with my best friend and our matching hoodies- Sophomore year, February of 2012)
February
February was a whirlwind of a month, where I was able to hit both my lowest and highest point in just 29 days, so adjust your reading glasses, because you're in for a crazy month of a story.
At the beginning of the month, the pain continued. However, I woke up early one Saturday morning with a severe pain in my lower right abdomen. I went to the bathroom, and immediately passed out. My mom helped me back to the bed, but it wasn't long before I was throwing up. I'd never had anything burst, but I couldn't help but thinking it was my appendix burst. As the throwing up continued, the pain worsened. I tried to get comfortable, but the pain remained the same. We tried the heating pad, but no matter what I did the throwing up and bursting pain continued. At a loss as of what to do, we began calling my "Recovery Team" and getting ready to go to the hospital. My mom helped me get out of the vomit-soaked clothes, and into some comfortable hospital clothes. I tried to walk to the bathroom, but only took a few steps before I collapsed and was vomitting all over the floor. I was scared. I was exhausted. But most of all I just wanted to know what was going on. My dad had to carry me out to the living room because I couldn't even walk just in time for the fire department and paramedics to show up, run an IV, and transport me to the hospital by ambulance.
The entire ride over, the paramedics caught my puke and pumped pain medication and anti nausea medication into my IV. Thank God, I had pulled myself together long enough to call Nick and tell him what was going on. My mom rode in the ambulance, my dad followed the ambulance, and luckily Zach was spending the night at a friend's house, so he didn't have to be caught up in more of my medical drama.
The only thing that kept me calm was listening to my mom's voice at the front of the car, talking to the paramedic that was driving. The pain was unbearable. The pain medication that the paramedic warned me "may or may not stop my heart" did nothing for me as my pain went from a 13 to a 15.
We got checked in at the hospital and set up with more pain medication and anti nausea medication while they ran tests on my blood. It was not even 7:00 and I was checked into the hospital until they figured out what was wrong with me. Thank goodness I had some distracting Playhouse Disney television shows to ease my mind.
Everyone was contacted, we all already had pictures up on Facebook, and everyone else was just now rolling out of bed. An MRI was ran and they gave me an inconclusive result that I was passing kidney stones. Because the contrast hadn't made everything completely clear, they didn't want to misdiagnose me. So they send me home with some anti nausea medication, pain killers, and an order to get an MRI done as a follow up.
My lowest point was February. It was so unfair that I had gone back to school and was getting better only to be put back in bed with worst pain than ever. I let myself fall and didn't even try to pick myself up. I was on a strict diet, in pain, and I felt my teenage years slipping away from me in pain. I didn't want to wake up another day that I had to be in pain. And all I could do was tell everyone I was okay, because they wouldn't understand. No one likes a complainer.
On Valentines day, I sat in a new doctor's office where it was confirmed I was passing kidney stones and for two more weeks, I laid in bed throwing up and passing out, until the toxic waste had cleared out of my body and when it had, I knew for sure.
For the first time in over ten months, I woke up with very little pain, and as I moved around the house and did a few chores, the pain came completely down until it had shrunk down to a 0 on a scale of 1-10.
For the first time in over ten months, I could be a teenager again. I could wake up without pain. I could walk without it hurting. I could take a car ride. I could do all the things I used to.
I knew I'd be behind, but on the following Monday, I decided for the third time I would take a try at school. This time was different. This time I knew I was going to get better. And I was going to be okay. I knew I was going to be behind the rest of my class and needed to do some catching up, but all I wanted was to be back to my normal, happy, healthy self and spend the day like everyone else does.
February was my highest point. Almost overnight, my health and my life had been returned to me. I was able to live my life and be a teenager, but it didn't come without a little work.
The night before I came back to school, I had the worst anxiety attack, I had ever had in my entire life. For the last ten months, my only goal was to get healthy and go back to school. I put all my energy into returning to my health and did everything I could. Home was my comfort zone. And now I was expected to go back to a place where I felt alone, where I was behind, and where I hadn't been for a year.
But I did it. On Monday, February 27th, of 2012, I went back to school for the third time, but it would be the last. I knew I was better this time. I knew I was going to be okay, and that's all that mattered to me. I would get caught up. My teachers would help me. All that mattered to me was that I was and would be okay.
I knew everything was going to be okay.
At the beginning of the month, the pain continued. However, I woke up early one Saturday morning with a severe pain in my lower right abdomen. I went to the bathroom, and immediately passed out. My mom helped me back to the bed, but it wasn't long before I was throwing up. I'd never had anything burst, but I couldn't help but thinking it was my appendix burst. As the throwing up continued, the pain worsened. I tried to get comfortable, but the pain remained the same. We tried the heating pad, but no matter what I did the throwing up and bursting pain continued. At a loss as of what to do, we began calling my "Recovery Team" and getting ready to go to the hospital. My mom helped me get out of the vomit-soaked clothes, and into some comfortable hospital clothes. I tried to walk to the bathroom, but only took a few steps before I collapsed and was vomitting all over the floor. I was scared. I was exhausted. But most of all I just wanted to know what was going on. My dad had to carry me out to the living room because I couldn't even walk just in time for the fire department and paramedics to show up, run an IV, and transport me to the hospital by ambulance.
The entire ride over, the paramedics caught my puke and pumped pain medication and anti nausea medication into my IV. Thank God, I had pulled myself together long enough to call Nick and tell him what was going on. My mom rode in the ambulance, my dad followed the ambulance, and luckily Zach was spending the night at a friend's house, so he didn't have to be caught up in more of my medical drama.
The only thing that kept me calm was listening to my mom's voice at the front of the car, talking to the paramedic that was driving. The pain was unbearable. The pain medication that the paramedic warned me "may or may not stop my heart" did nothing for me as my pain went from a 13 to a 15.
We got checked in at the hospital and set up with more pain medication and anti nausea medication while they ran tests on my blood. It was not even 7:00 and I was checked into the hospital until they figured out what was wrong with me. Thank goodness I had some distracting Playhouse Disney television shows to ease my mind.
Everyone was contacted, we all already had pictures up on Facebook, and everyone else was just now rolling out of bed. An MRI was ran and they gave me an inconclusive result that I was passing kidney stones. Because the contrast hadn't made everything completely clear, they didn't want to misdiagnose me. So they send me home with some anti nausea medication, pain killers, and an order to get an MRI done as a follow up.
My lowest point was February. It was so unfair that I had gone back to school and was getting better only to be put back in bed with worst pain than ever. I let myself fall and didn't even try to pick myself up. I was on a strict diet, in pain, and I felt my teenage years slipping away from me in pain. I didn't want to wake up another day that I had to be in pain. And all I could do was tell everyone I was okay, because they wouldn't understand. No one likes a complainer.
On Valentines day, I sat in a new doctor's office where it was confirmed I was passing kidney stones and for two more weeks, I laid in bed throwing up and passing out, until the toxic waste had cleared out of my body and when it had, I knew for sure.
For the first time in over ten months, I woke up with very little pain, and as I moved around the house and did a few chores, the pain came completely down until it had shrunk down to a 0 on a scale of 1-10.
For the first time in over ten months, I could be a teenager again. I could wake up without pain. I could walk without it hurting. I could take a car ride. I could do all the things I used to.
I knew I'd be behind, but on the following Monday, I decided for the third time I would take a try at school. This time was different. This time I knew I was going to get better. And I was going to be okay. I knew I was going to be behind the rest of my class and needed to do some catching up, but all I wanted was to be back to my normal, happy, healthy self and spend the day like everyone else does.
February was my highest point. Almost overnight, my health and my life had been returned to me. I was able to live my life and be a teenager, but it didn't come without a little work.
The night before I came back to school, I had the worst anxiety attack, I had ever had in my entire life. For the last ten months, my only goal was to get healthy and go back to school. I put all my energy into returning to my health and did everything I could. Home was my comfort zone. And now I was expected to go back to a place where I felt alone, where I was behind, and where I hadn't been for a year.
But I did it. On Monday, February 27th, of 2012, I went back to school for the third time, but it would be the last. I knew I was better this time. I knew I was going to be okay, and that's all that mattered to me. I would get caught up. My teachers would help me. All that mattered to me was that I was and would be okay.
I knew everything was going to be okay.
Monday, February 20, 2012
January Pictures
(New Year's Eve with me and all of my friends- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
(In hyperbaric treatments, getting ready to get back to school- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
(Me and Nick about to begin our first day of school, we were also celebrating our nine month anniversary, going back was a great present for us both- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
(My first day of school was one of the roughest, I started out with a bright smile and hope and was soon back in bed with the worst pain and the worst migraine, but I was determined that it wouldn't get me down- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
(The night we talked to a doctor who determined I might have a blood disorder that caused my endometriosis, I was back on my feet and full of hope- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
(My beautiful support team helping me through a rough time- Sophomore year, January of 2012)
January
I spent the last day of 2011 with my friends, huddled around board games and food in my living room. I felt so good and so full of energy, but not quite back to normal. I knew on this day, that I would be going back to school in only four days and had been doing hyperbaric treatments as well as up to sixteen ounces of Asea every day.
I knew I would be going back, but I wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. Not only did I want to surprise everyone, but in case I wasn't able to actually make it back, I didn't want to let anyone down like I had so many times before now.
The first day of school was nauseating. In a good way. Mostly. I was beyond stressed out and cried when it was time for me to exit my comfort zone and enter school. I felt cold stares as I walked down the hallway, but all the warm smiles and hugs from my friends and people who followed my story on Facebook made it all worth it.
Every day after school I came home and collapsed into the couch, both mentally and physically exhausted. Going back to school was harder than I thought. I'd done all that I could, but I was beginning to see that, that wasn't going to be enough.
I started getting to school later, going for a half day, or even not coming at all. I got a fourth dose of my "menopause shot" and that was it. I was in so much pain, I never came back to school at all. How was it that I had made so much progress only to completely fall back to where I was?
I was getting beyond tired of this.
After several treatment appointments and no help, I went back to my OBGYN, who was turning into my worst nightmare.
Once again, she stared at me with wide, unbelieving eyes and shook her head. She told me that she had never seen this pain and didn't know what to do at this point. Because we had gone and attempted "alternative" treatments, she retaliated by refusing to treat us unless we went to see a pain management doctor, who would pump more fatal drugs into my body.
Once again, we were alone in this, however the team of support I had acquired, assured me that my battle was not over and I would once again be back to health, like I was when I started school.
I did everything I could to avoid it, and yet I was still tortured with this pain. It was beyond unfair, but it was time I put all of my hurt and frustrations into a creative form that wouldn't hurt me, but instead keep me in good spirits.
Thus began my blog.
I knew I would be going back, but I wasn't ready to tell anyone yet. Not only did I want to surprise everyone, but in case I wasn't able to actually make it back, I didn't want to let anyone down like I had so many times before now.
The first day of school was nauseating. In a good way. Mostly. I was beyond stressed out and cried when it was time for me to exit my comfort zone and enter school. I felt cold stares as I walked down the hallway, but all the warm smiles and hugs from my friends and people who followed my story on Facebook made it all worth it.
Every day after school I came home and collapsed into the couch, both mentally and physically exhausted. Going back to school was harder than I thought. I'd done all that I could, but I was beginning to see that, that wasn't going to be enough.
I started getting to school later, going for a half day, or even not coming at all. I got a fourth dose of my "menopause shot" and that was it. I was in so much pain, I never came back to school at all. How was it that I had made so much progress only to completely fall back to where I was?
I was getting beyond tired of this.
After several treatment appointments and no help, I went back to my OBGYN, who was turning into my worst nightmare.
Once again, she stared at me with wide, unbelieving eyes and shook her head. She told me that she had never seen this pain and didn't know what to do at this point. Because we had gone and attempted "alternative" treatments, she retaliated by refusing to treat us unless we went to see a pain management doctor, who would pump more fatal drugs into my body.
Once again, we were alone in this, however the team of support I had acquired, assured me that my battle was not over and I would once again be back to health, like I was when I started school.
I did everything I could to avoid it, and yet I was still tortured with this pain. It was beyond unfair, but it was time I put all of my hurt and frustrations into a creative form that wouldn't hurt me, but instead keep me in good spirits.
Thus began my blog.
Tuesday, February 7, 2012
December Pictures
(A collage showing the hyperbaric chamber, me inside, and my view from inside at my first hyperbaric treatment- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(Nick and I on our first walk around the pond in the snow at the Broadmoor- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(My mom and I posed in front of the Christmas trees at the Broadmoor after an amazing night out- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(One of my favorite pictures, leaving the Broadmoor after an amazing night- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(Opening presents with the Nick and the family! Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(Playah grinning from ear to ear while opening presents- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
(My boys winding down Christmas day with some snow skating- Sophomore year, December of 2011)
December
Looking back, December was my best month.
While everyone was planning their Christmas vacation, I spent my day in bed watching Christmas movies all day long, trying to figure out how I would squeeze in some winter fun with my family.
One evening, while it was getting closer to Christmas, some close family friends stopped by, with the most amazing Christmas gift at all. Good health. With some basic information on a drink called Asea and hyperbaric treatments, which had tremendously helped a member of their family.
I began taking two ounces of Asea on December thirteenth, a few days later I had my first hyperbaric treatment.
Basically, the Asea worked at a molecular level to force my body to recover how it would naturally. It replaced the damaged redox signaling molecules, brought the partial healthy molecules up to optimum level, and with the help the the hyperbaric sessions, it would increase the level of oxygen in my body so that my body would be forced to recover the way it should, instead of with the help of prescription drugs and surgery.
I didn't know what all Asea did, but other than salt water, the ingredients in the Asea are native to the human body, so it obviously couldn't hurt me. I started from two ounces a day, until I was taking 16 ounces of Asea every day. Within two days, we saw immediate results. On a scale of 1-10, 1 being hardly anything, and 10 being the most excruciating pain I've ever felt, I was battling a 9-10 pain every single day. After two days with Asea, my pain was down to a 5.
This was not to say that I wouldn't have my days of high pain, or a hard time getting out of bed, but it was obvious how well I was beginning to feel just with the help of Asea alone!
I started hyperbaric treatments just a few days later, which is basically a big tube that I laid in which stimulated me laying under four pounds of pressure. Which was basically like going almost thirty feet under the sea or ocean. This got my body up to its optimum oxygen level and after just an hour per treatment, that would help my body and the Asea do its job and heal.
Because the hyperbaric treatment was so weird, I just kept reminding myself that Michael Jackson used to sleep in one, and probably every single one of the players on the Dallas Cowboys had used one at one point in their career, so it obviously wouldn't do any damage or even hurt. In fact, the car ride over to the treatment facility, in the back of a tanning salon, hurt worse than laying in the hyperbaric tube for an hour.
About a week before Christmas, immediately after my treatments, Nick, my mom, and I went Christmas shopping, went out to one of our favorite restaraunts for dinner, and then went off to the Broadmoor to look at Christmas lights.
Pulling up to the valet, tears filled in my eyes. Just being able to get out for this one night was the best present I could have gotten this year for Christmas. For the first time, I got to do something normal to celebrate the holidays like everyone else would. For the first time, I could get out without doubling over in pain. I was feeling so good that night, that I never wanted to go. For the first time, I was the one begging to go for another walk instead of begging to go back home so I could lay down.
Christmas was exactly the same. I was able to get up early with Zach and my mom and open presents and even walk all over the complex with Zach and Nick while they had snow ball fights and took Zach's snow skates out. The whole day was perfect.
After hitting such a low point in my physical and mental health, this Christmas showed me what it was all about. I didn't get a new iPad, I didn't get a new designer bag, or a new car, but I got my health back. I got to have a holiday without any pain, and it was spent with those who truely matter in my life. I couldn't be any happier.
I knew that it could only get better from here.
While everyone was planning their Christmas vacation, I spent my day in bed watching Christmas movies all day long, trying to figure out how I would squeeze in some winter fun with my family.
One evening, while it was getting closer to Christmas, some close family friends stopped by, with the most amazing Christmas gift at all. Good health. With some basic information on a drink called Asea and hyperbaric treatments, which had tremendously helped a member of their family.
I began taking two ounces of Asea on December thirteenth, a few days later I had my first hyperbaric treatment.
Basically, the Asea worked at a molecular level to force my body to recover how it would naturally. It replaced the damaged redox signaling molecules, brought the partial healthy molecules up to optimum level, and with the help the the hyperbaric sessions, it would increase the level of oxygen in my body so that my body would be forced to recover the way it should, instead of with the help of prescription drugs and surgery.
I didn't know what all Asea did, but other than salt water, the ingredients in the Asea are native to the human body, so it obviously couldn't hurt me. I started from two ounces a day, until I was taking 16 ounces of Asea every day. Within two days, we saw immediate results. On a scale of 1-10, 1 being hardly anything, and 10 being the most excruciating pain I've ever felt, I was battling a 9-10 pain every single day. After two days with Asea, my pain was down to a 5.
This was not to say that I wouldn't have my days of high pain, or a hard time getting out of bed, but it was obvious how well I was beginning to feel just with the help of Asea alone!
I started hyperbaric treatments just a few days later, which is basically a big tube that I laid in which stimulated me laying under four pounds of pressure. Which was basically like going almost thirty feet under the sea or ocean. This got my body up to its optimum oxygen level and after just an hour per treatment, that would help my body and the Asea do its job and heal.
Because the hyperbaric treatment was so weird, I just kept reminding myself that Michael Jackson used to sleep in one, and probably every single one of the players on the Dallas Cowboys had used one at one point in their career, so it obviously wouldn't do any damage or even hurt. In fact, the car ride over to the treatment facility, in the back of a tanning salon, hurt worse than laying in the hyperbaric tube for an hour.
About a week before Christmas, immediately after my treatments, Nick, my mom, and I went Christmas shopping, went out to one of our favorite restaraunts for dinner, and then went off to the Broadmoor to look at Christmas lights.
Pulling up to the valet, tears filled in my eyes. Just being able to get out for this one night was the best present I could have gotten this year for Christmas. For the first time, I got to do something normal to celebrate the holidays like everyone else would. For the first time, I could get out without doubling over in pain. I was feeling so good that night, that I never wanted to go. For the first time, I was the one begging to go for another walk instead of begging to go back home so I could lay down.
Christmas was exactly the same. I was able to get up early with Zach and my mom and open presents and even walk all over the complex with Zach and Nick while they had snow ball fights and took Zach's snow skates out. The whole day was perfect.
After hitting such a low point in my physical and mental health, this Christmas showed me what it was all about. I didn't get a new iPad, I didn't get a new designer bag, or a new car, but I got my health back. I got to have a holiday without any pain, and it was spent with those who truely matter in my life. I couldn't be any happier.
I knew that it could only get better from here.
Monday, February 6, 2012
November Pictures
(The family sitting down at Thanksgiving Dinner together- Sophomore year, November of 2011)
(A family shot with Cousin Kim, Aunt Kathy, myself, Zach, Cousin Tommy, Uncle Ted, Cousin Andy, my mom, Playah, Aunt Margie, and Uncle Tim after spending a marvelous Thanksgiving together- Sophomore year, November of 2011)
(My beautiful mom and I shopping at Urban Outfitters on her birthday, Black Friday- Sophomore year, November of 2011)
(My grandmother and aunt Diane on my father's side, my little brother Zach, and I out at lunch at one of their favorite Mexican restaurants- Sophomore year, November of 2011)
(The four cousins on my father's side in Dallas on our last night in Texas, my handsome little brother, Zach, my dashing cousin, Jake, my gorgeous cousin, Taylor, and I- Sophomore year, November of 2011)
(I was so sad to be leaving Dallas, I wanted all of the pictures I could get- Sophomore year, November of 2011)
November
The whole family was going through a hard time and that was plain to see beyond our four-walled protecting shell of a home.
In an attempt to cheer everyone up, we decided to spend Thanksgiving in Dallas with all of our family. Feeling so alone beyond the four of us, we drove to Texas over night so, not only could I sleep, but also so we could get there as soon as possible without missing any Thanksgiving action.
We got down to my aunt and uncle's house and were immediately showered in love and treated like princesses and princes. The four days that we had spent in Dallas surrounded by our loved ones was the best I had felt. It was as if the humidity and nice weather had let the pain melt and just evaporate out of my body.
I was still tired and still feeling pain, but not to the severity that I had in the past few months. I could get out and walk around the property. I was able to go shopping on my mom's birthday, and even get out with my cousins. It was the first time I had felt any sense of pain relief that had been shackling me down since May.
When I got back home, the pain slowly returned to the same. Every day I yearned to go back to my own private haven that's given me more relief than some of the strongest pain medication that I'd been prescribed through the months.
All I wanted was relief or some sense of understanding and help through what I was going through, but as the months dragged on that relief seemed further and further away. If I had to go back and stay in Dallas for help, so be it. Where I was now was not healthy. Being alone, imprisoned by this pain was taking its toll on both my physical and mental health.
I had to keep smiling and believing I'd be okay, but I didn't know when I'd be okay or how many organs I'd be left to be okay with. This was so unfair. I had never done anything bad enough to deserve this and yet I was stuck with it. And no one even knew. Behind my fake lip glossed smile, no one could see the endless nights of crying sprees. But at this point, I didn't know if I'd want them to.
The escape to Dallas was nice, but coming back to my life was a hard reality. It was back to physical therapy, back to acupuncture, back to tutoring, back to the same.
Back to the same.
Back to the same.
Back to the same...
In an attempt to cheer everyone up, we decided to spend Thanksgiving in Dallas with all of our family. Feeling so alone beyond the four of us, we drove to Texas over night so, not only could I sleep, but also so we could get there as soon as possible without missing any Thanksgiving action.
We got down to my aunt and uncle's house and were immediately showered in love and treated like princesses and princes. The four days that we had spent in Dallas surrounded by our loved ones was the best I had felt. It was as if the humidity and nice weather had let the pain melt and just evaporate out of my body.
I was still tired and still feeling pain, but not to the severity that I had in the past few months. I could get out and walk around the property. I was able to go shopping on my mom's birthday, and even get out with my cousins. It was the first time I had felt any sense of pain relief that had been shackling me down since May.
When I got back home, the pain slowly returned to the same. Every day I yearned to go back to my own private haven that's given me more relief than some of the strongest pain medication that I'd been prescribed through the months.
All I wanted was relief or some sense of understanding and help through what I was going through, but as the months dragged on that relief seemed further and further away. If I had to go back and stay in Dallas for help, so be it. Where I was now was not healthy. Being alone, imprisoned by this pain was taking its toll on both my physical and mental health.
I had to keep smiling and believing I'd be okay, but I didn't know when I'd be okay or how many organs I'd be left to be okay with. This was so unfair. I had never done anything bad enough to deserve this and yet I was stuck with it. And no one even knew. Behind my fake lip glossed smile, no one could see the endless nights of crying sprees. But at this point, I didn't know if I'd want them to.
The escape to Dallas was nice, but coming back to my life was a hard reality. It was back to physical therapy, back to acupuncture, back to tutoring, back to the same.
Back to the same.
Back to the same.
Back to the same...
Friday, February 3, 2012
October Pictures
(Nick and I posing with the ginormous pig that liked to devour pumpkins at the pumpkin patch- Sophomore year, October of 2011)
(Me and my two favorite boys at the pumpkin patch- Sophomore year, October of 2011)
(Me and my new friend, the camel, at the pumpkin patch-Sophomore year, October of 2011)
(The three of us after we had picked out our perfect pumpkins at the pumpkin patch- Sophomore year, October of 2011)
(Zach's Joker pumpkin, my Hello Kitty pumpkin, and Nick's vomitting pumpkin- Sophomore year, October of 2011)
October
This month was the month of trying new forms of healing. The shot I was on already was not working well enough to suppress the endometriosis, we decided to switch to a shot that would completely shut off my estrogen and send me into menopause... At age 15.
The first injection I had, was a little emotional. We talked about all the possible side effects, what I was to expect, and the doctor also said that this would be it. This was our last chance attempt at fixing all of these problems I was having. There was no cure for endometriosis, however there were several things I could do to suppress the pain. And other than a hysterectomy, this one of the last things I could do that would help me.
After one of the most painful shots I'd have to have every month from now on, all I wanted was the most supreme nachos I could imagine, so off to Amanda Fonda's my mom and I went! I saw the school on the way to the restaurant and broke down in tears. Every day having to look out the window, across the street at the school, was torture. That's the only place I wanted to be.
Through this entire experience, my mom has been a complete God send. I can't imagine how hard it must be to have to watch your child go through pain this severe or what a toll it takes on your life while you're at work and school, but through it all my mom has been my hero, taking care of me and doing anything she could for me.
The other thing we started in October was acupuncture, which I was scared to death of. When you think needles, you don't think pain relief, you think IV's, getting blood drawn, pain... So having needles shoved into where I was hurting most didn't sound pleasant at all.
With a quickened heart beat and a body shaking like a leaf, I talked nervously through the painful car ride across town, but after the end of my first acupuncture session, I knew that I would be back time after time. The needles didn't give me any pain, in fact they relieved it more than any of my pain medication had, it was amazing.
Because it was still so hard for me to be up and around, I had to supplement going out and partying with friends, with fun things I could do while laying on the couch, that didn't cause me much pain. One of my new-found loves was scrap booking. For our sixth month anniversary, Nick bought me a big scrapbook filled with every single picture we had taken as a couple in our time together. Other than the pictures, he left the pages blank, so that when I was sitting at home alone with nothing to do, I could scrap book. For probably a month, all I did every day was scrapbook the past sixth months we had spent together. It was perfect.
While everyone was dressing up and planning to go out to multiple parties, I had planned to have a little movie night at home with my friends. And the weekend before Halloween, we went to the pumpkin patch to pick out the perfect pumpkins. It was a lot of walking and I couldn't partake in any of the activities there, but it was just what I needed. I loved it.
I ended up cancelling my party, and staying in to be with the ones that really mattered-- my family. And Nick... But at this point Nick was my family. We baked some fun snacks, watched scary movies, and spent the whole night together.
I guess this month, along with trying new things, I also learned that I had all the support I needed. The people who stood by me weren't necessarily the people I expected, but it didn't matter. They were all I had to lean on and they never left, even when everyone else did.
Even if my pain was still continuing, it was time for me to start focusing on the positives in life instead of wallowing in what was wrong with me.
The first injection I had, was a little emotional. We talked about all the possible side effects, what I was to expect, and the doctor also said that this would be it. This was our last chance attempt at fixing all of these problems I was having. There was no cure for endometriosis, however there were several things I could do to suppress the pain. And other than a hysterectomy, this one of the last things I could do that would help me.
After one of the most painful shots I'd have to have every month from now on, all I wanted was the most supreme nachos I could imagine, so off to Amanda Fonda's my mom and I went! I saw the school on the way to the restaurant and broke down in tears. Every day having to look out the window, across the street at the school, was torture. That's the only place I wanted to be.
Through this entire experience, my mom has been a complete God send. I can't imagine how hard it must be to have to watch your child go through pain this severe or what a toll it takes on your life while you're at work and school, but through it all my mom has been my hero, taking care of me and doing anything she could for me.
The other thing we started in October was acupuncture, which I was scared to death of. When you think needles, you don't think pain relief, you think IV's, getting blood drawn, pain... So having needles shoved into where I was hurting most didn't sound pleasant at all.
With a quickened heart beat and a body shaking like a leaf, I talked nervously through the painful car ride across town, but after the end of my first acupuncture session, I knew that I would be back time after time. The needles didn't give me any pain, in fact they relieved it more than any of my pain medication had, it was amazing.
Because it was still so hard for me to be up and around, I had to supplement going out and partying with friends, with fun things I could do while laying on the couch, that didn't cause me much pain. One of my new-found loves was scrap booking. For our sixth month anniversary, Nick bought me a big scrapbook filled with every single picture we had taken as a couple in our time together. Other than the pictures, he left the pages blank, so that when I was sitting at home alone with nothing to do, I could scrap book. For probably a month, all I did every day was scrapbook the past sixth months we had spent together. It was perfect.
While everyone was dressing up and planning to go out to multiple parties, I had planned to have a little movie night at home with my friends. And the weekend before Halloween, we went to the pumpkin patch to pick out the perfect pumpkins. It was a lot of walking and I couldn't partake in any of the activities there, but it was just what I needed. I loved it.
I ended up cancelling my party, and staying in to be with the ones that really mattered-- my family. And Nick... But at this point Nick was my family. We baked some fun snacks, watched scary movies, and spent the whole night together.
I guess this month, along with trying new things, I also learned that I had all the support I needed. The people who stood by me weren't necessarily the people I expected, but it didn't matter. They were all I had to lean on and they never left, even when everyone else did.
Even if my pain was still continuing, it was time for me to start focusing on the positives in life instead of wallowing in what was wrong with me.
Thursday, February 2, 2012
September Pictures
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(Nick and I, Homecoming- Sophomore year, September of 2011)
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(Group shot- Homecoming, September of 2011)
(Our group shilloete, probably my favorite group picture, Homecoming- Sophomore year, September of 2011)
September
So this was looking like all I had to look forward to. Pain was beginning to be all I expected out of life. Do you know how unfair that is? Do you know how amazing it was to be up and around, hanging out with my friends like the last four months never happened? One day, I was up and feeling perfect and the next day, I was laying back in bed staring out the window at what my life could be, but isn't.
While every one was at school, I laid in bed at home, usually sleeping most of the time. My counselor at school and my mom both decided that until we worked this out, the "504 option" was going to be my best bet at graduating on time. Basically, I was still enrolled in school, but when I was not able to attend school, a tutor would come to my house to help me work on what I couldn't understand on my own. When I went back to school, my tutor would help me into the transition, with getting caught up.
I just hoped I was back in school by the end of the year, but honestly I had no idea if I'd ever be back. It seemed like such a far away goal when it was hard enough for me to even sit up and get out of bed.
We went back to the doctor who had ordered for the surgery. All she could do was shake her head and shrug. Once again, she looked at me like I was crazy. I was not crazy. However, I might become crazy if I had to keep living in this pain for the rest of my life.
She ordered that I have a few tests done, and go to see a physical therapist. What could it hurt? If it would help, I would do anything.
Early one morning, I woke up to go to the physical therapist for a consultation. They wanted to meet with me first because they weren't sure how much they could do for me. But after our first meeting, it turned out I was going to need a lot more help, than we originally thought.
My physical therapist was in awe. as she slightly pressed down on my stomach, describing this unbelievably hard muscle that circled around where my pain was.
If you know me well, you know what I'm talking about. You know that I have placed you hang on my stomach, in the middle of a conversation, and made you feel how tight my muscles were.
This wasn't a normal kind of tight. My muscles were so rock solid, that you could hardly press down on them at all, and not only that, but the physical therapist said that my muscles were just constantly spasming, constantly tense, unable to relax. It's like my brain was fighting my body.
Week after week, the little pushes into my muscles and working some of that tense muscle out, became more and more intense. But each week, it was the same problem. It's like I made progress every hour I was there, only to get home and make backwards progress until the next time they saw me.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were physical therapy. Tuesday and Thursday were tutoring. This was my life now. My world just revolved around this constant pain.
As physical therapy got more intense, so did the pain. I would sob all the way through my appointments, along with my physical therapist, who just felt horrible, but knew that what she was doing had to help me. I would cry all the way there, all the way through my appointment, all the way home, and all the way through the night, until my body was so exhausted I would just fall asleep.
All I did was cry. Everything made me cry. And no one could handle that, so once again I was alone.
With Homecoming coming up, I had no idea how I was going to get there. I had no idea what I was going to do if I couldn't be there with all of my friends. So every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we worked as hard as I could stand to try and get me back to normal, we worked so hard that I would sit up from the table, literally light headed from how much pain I was in.
Tutoring was equally as hard, as I had to be able to sit up and balance a book against my stomach for two hours while I tried to get my mind off of pain and focus on catching up on material that I had missed in school.
Because I wasn't well enough to get out and shop for my Homecoming dress, every day I looked online at new places for an amazing dress that NO ONE else would have. People thought I was pregnant with some sort of miracle child, so I had to show up to that dance looking AMAZING.
I showed up to the game, feeling completely lost in a sea of people. It's very hard for me to get up and down stairs, so once I got down the stadium stairs and found an open seat, I sat down. Because all of my friends were up in the student section and having too much fun, I sat down with Megan. Not only because I was having a good time with her and Nick, but also because being there was hurting me so bad that it was impossible for me to make it back up those stairs until I had to.
Another instance where it was obvious how much my pain had differenced me from my friends.
Sure, I could have been short with them every once in a while, or not reply to a text because I was asleep... But it felt like I was being punished for hurting. It was so hard for me to get out of the house and up and around, and instead of having people tell me how good it was to see me, or ask me how I was feeling, or telling me they were so proud of me for getting out, I was isolated. Only because I do everything my friends did.
From the game, us girls went to Ally's house to get ready. Immediately, all of the girls dispersed around the house with their moms, doing their hair and makeup for the dance. I don't think they realized how bad I was hurting. I don't think they realized how hard it was for me to be out with them.
While everyone quickly ran upstairs to get ready, I sat down on the floor of the basement "waiting for my mom." I was hurting so bad and so flustered from all the pain that instantly hit me. I tried to start getting ready and just broke down in tears. When my mom did finally get there, we got set up on the main floor and did my makeup away from everyone else only because I couldn't get to where everyone else was.
I was the last to get ready, and I had the right. I was beyond in pain, but had to smile pretty for the pictures.
I suffered through pictures and did my best to keep smiling. Being able to see Nick, waiting with my corsage made it all worth it though.
After group pictures, we went to my house for, what else, Panda Express. From dinner, we headed over to the dance. By that time, I knew. I knew it was going to be a long night. I knew I wasn't going to make it all the way through
I danced as long as I could and as much I could without hurting myself too much, but all of the sudden I felt drawn to the girls locker room. I almost ran there without telling anyone where I was going. And all of the sudden, I threw up all of my dinner. Because obviously, my body didn't think that I was getting enough rumors about being pregnant.
I stayed at the dance waiting for one slow song, running back and forth from the dance floor to the bathroom, getting rid of any thing I ate all day. Once I got my one slow song with Nick, I went home while my friends stayed at the dance and had fun. That was the worst feeling, but who was I to take away their fun just because I wasn't having any?
The girls spent the night and even though they were there, I felt so far away from them.
If my friends spending the night didn't even make me feel better about our friendship, I didn't know what would. And never mind the broken friendships, but if everything I was doing wasn't enough to get better, I didn't know what else to do, without going completely drastic.
I was only fifteen... I wasn't ready to completely give up any remaining chances I had, at one day WAY in the future, having kids.
While every one was at school, I laid in bed at home, usually sleeping most of the time. My counselor at school and my mom both decided that until we worked this out, the "504 option" was going to be my best bet at graduating on time. Basically, I was still enrolled in school, but when I was not able to attend school, a tutor would come to my house to help me work on what I couldn't understand on my own. When I went back to school, my tutor would help me into the transition, with getting caught up.
I just hoped I was back in school by the end of the year, but honestly I had no idea if I'd ever be back. It seemed like such a far away goal when it was hard enough for me to even sit up and get out of bed.
We went back to the doctor who had ordered for the surgery. All she could do was shake her head and shrug. Once again, she looked at me like I was crazy. I was not crazy. However, I might become crazy if I had to keep living in this pain for the rest of my life.
She ordered that I have a few tests done, and go to see a physical therapist. What could it hurt? If it would help, I would do anything.
Early one morning, I woke up to go to the physical therapist for a consultation. They wanted to meet with me first because they weren't sure how much they could do for me. But after our first meeting, it turned out I was going to need a lot more help, than we originally thought.
My physical therapist was in awe. as she slightly pressed down on my stomach, describing this unbelievably hard muscle that circled around where my pain was.
If you know me well, you know what I'm talking about. You know that I have placed you hang on my stomach, in the middle of a conversation, and made you feel how tight my muscles were.
This wasn't a normal kind of tight. My muscles were so rock solid, that you could hardly press down on them at all, and not only that, but the physical therapist said that my muscles were just constantly spasming, constantly tense, unable to relax. It's like my brain was fighting my body.
Week after week, the little pushes into my muscles and working some of that tense muscle out, became more and more intense. But each week, it was the same problem. It's like I made progress every hour I was there, only to get home and make backwards progress until the next time they saw me.
Monday, Wednesday, and Friday were physical therapy. Tuesday and Thursday were tutoring. This was my life now. My world just revolved around this constant pain.
As physical therapy got more intense, so did the pain. I would sob all the way through my appointments, along with my physical therapist, who just felt horrible, but knew that what she was doing had to help me. I would cry all the way there, all the way through my appointment, all the way home, and all the way through the night, until my body was so exhausted I would just fall asleep.
All I did was cry. Everything made me cry. And no one could handle that, so once again I was alone.
With Homecoming coming up, I had no idea how I was going to get there. I had no idea what I was going to do if I couldn't be there with all of my friends. So every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday we worked as hard as I could stand to try and get me back to normal, we worked so hard that I would sit up from the table, literally light headed from how much pain I was in.
Tutoring was equally as hard, as I had to be able to sit up and balance a book against my stomach for two hours while I tried to get my mind off of pain and focus on catching up on material that I had missed in school.
Because I wasn't well enough to get out and shop for my Homecoming dress, every day I looked online at new places for an amazing dress that NO ONE else would have. People thought I was pregnant with some sort of miracle child, so I had to show up to that dance looking AMAZING.
I showed up to the game, feeling completely lost in a sea of people. It's very hard for me to get up and down stairs, so once I got down the stadium stairs and found an open seat, I sat down. Because all of my friends were up in the student section and having too much fun, I sat down with Megan. Not only because I was having a good time with her and Nick, but also because being there was hurting me so bad that it was impossible for me to make it back up those stairs until I had to.
Another instance where it was obvious how much my pain had differenced me from my friends.
Sure, I could have been short with them every once in a while, or not reply to a text because I was asleep... But it felt like I was being punished for hurting. It was so hard for me to get out of the house and up and around, and instead of having people tell me how good it was to see me, or ask me how I was feeling, or telling me they were so proud of me for getting out, I was isolated. Only because I do everything my friends did.
From the game, us girls went to Ally's house to get ready. Immediately, all of the girls dispersed around the house with their moms, doing their hair and makeup for the dance. I don't think they realized how bad I was hurting. I don't think they realized how hard it was for me to be out with them.
While everyone quickly ran upstairs to get ready, I sat down on the floor of the basement "waiting for my mom." I was hurting so bad and so flustered from all the pain that instantly hit me. I tried to start getting ready and just broke down in tears. When my mom did finally get there, we got set up on the main floor and did my makeup away from everyone else only because I couldn't get to where everyone else was.
I was the last to get ready, and I had the right. I was beyond in pain, but had to smile pretty for the pictures.
I suffered through pictures and did my best to keep smiling. Being able to see Nick, waiting with my corsage made it all worth it though.
After group pictures, we went to my house for, what else, Panda Express. From dinner, we headed over to the dance. By that time, I knew. I knew it was going to be a long night. I knew I wasn't going to make it all the way through
I danced as long as I could and as much I could without hurting myself too much, but all of the sudden I felt drawn to the girls locker room. I almost ran there without telling anyone where I was going. And all of the sudden, I threw up all of my dinner. Because obviously, my body didn't think that I was getting enough rumors about being pregnant.
I stayed at the dance waiting for one slow song, running back and forth from the dance floor to the bathroom, getting rid of any thing I ate all day. Once I got my one slow song with Nick, I went home while my friends stayed at the dance and had fun. That was the worst feeling, but who was I to take away their fun just because I wasn't having any?
The girls spent the night and even though they were there, I felt so far away from them.
If my friends spending the night didn't even make me feel better about our friendship, I didn't know what would. And never mind the broken friendships, but if everything I was doing wasn't enough to get better, I didn't know what else to do, without going completely drastic.
I was only fifteen... I wasn't ready to completely give up any remaining chances I had, at one day WAY in the future, having kids.
Wednesday, February 1, 2012
August Pictures
(My mom and I on the incline, proving to each other that I WAS going to be okay- Summer between 9th and 10th, August of 2011)
(One of the first times I wore "actual clothes", rocking something other than a hospital gown for once, first day of school- Sophomore year, August of 2011)
(First day of school, Nick walked over to walk me to school, what a keeper!- Sophomore year, August of 2011)
("Let's go to the park... Because I'm the best boyfriend ever." It's true... He is! My surprise party- Sophomore year, August of 2011)
(In shock of seeing everyone there for me, hugging my best friend, Brittany, my surprise party- Sophomore year, August of 2011)
(All of my friends: Megan, Ally, my best friend, Brittany, me, Nick, my little brother, Zach, and Max at my surprise party- Sophomore year, August 2011)
(Nick and I rocking the "California pose" at my surprise birthday party- Sophomore year, August of 2011)
(Clearly having fun at my surprise birthday party, following my mom's orders by "putting my arms up and yelling 'WOOHOO!!!'"- Sophomore year, August of 2011)
(Doing what I do best and getting needles shoved through my skin, my 15th birthday- Sophomore year, August of 2011)
August
My recovery began and it was time for me to get back in shape and get ready to go back to school.
I was cramming all the summer I could into this last 18 days even though I still wasn't feeling quite the way I should be feeling by this point, after my surgery. I knew I shouldn't be hurting, but every once in a while I would wake up in a pain that didn't allow me to leave bed.
One day, just to prove that I was okay and that my surgery had fixed all my problems, my mom, Nick, and I hiked the incline. It was grueling, tiring, and no fun whatsoever. But it was exactly what my mom intended it to be. Proof. Proof that I was okay. If I could do the incline, I could do anything.
From then, until school started, I tried my hardest to keep myself from lying in bed all day with what we thought was "phantom pains."
The day school started, I was nervous and what you could call a total hot mess. I was late to all most all of my classes, and having the hardest time just making it through class, having to sit up. I assumed it was just my body trying to get back into shape.
I came home every day from school exhausted, in an incredible amount of pain. I figured it was nothing other than my body trying to get back into shape and getting used to doing something with my days.
Three days after school started, Nick invited me to go swimming, what I thought was an attempt to make me happy and keep me from getting discouraged by school. We drove further than I thought we would and I was beginning to get a little confused. When he wanted to go to the park before we went swimming, I was even more puzzled as to what he was trying to do. I went along with the plan, but was a little hesistant. I did NOT dress for this.
All of the sudden, from behind the play equiptment came all of my family and friends! I started to cry instantly, realizing what was going on. My fifteenth birthday wasn't for another week, but it never hurt to celebrate early! All of the friends I hadn't gotten to see ran up hugging me and wishing me a happy birthday.
This was exactly what I needed to keep me in a good mood, and keep me from giving up.
All afternoon we swam in the rain and talked non-stop. I couldn't have been any happier at that very moment. It was all I needed to be reassured that I could do this. That I would be okay.
It was just what I needed and as happy as I was to see my friends, it was still how evident how different all of our lives had become from one another. I ignored whatever feelings being on a completely different thought process brought on, and enjoyed the day. My day. My birthday.
The next week at school was rough, and I only made it through Thursday before I came home and melted into the couch, completely exhausted.
What was going on? I had the surgery. I'd done everything I could, and yet I was still in pain and still having the same problems.
I made it through my birthday, doing the only thing I wanted to do-- hang out with my friends and get my nose and belly button pierced. I figured that I'd been through enough pain that piercings were not going to be bad at all, and with everything I'd been through, I deserved these two piercings! (Right Mom!? ;))
For the rest of August, I struggled to make it to and from school, staying only for half a day or coming in late before I finally stopped going to school all together.
I had gone from having my life back, to the same pain I'd been in for almost four months now, in hardly any time at all. I was doing everything I could to get better and it wasn't enough. I was finally thinking that I was back on track for getting better and having a happy, healthy life back.
What else did I have to do? I wasn't sure what I did to deserve all of this pain, but whatever I did, it must have been awful. Having to lose my life to this excruciating pain, metaphorically speaking, was something I could not wish on anyone, not even those who had done me wrong.
I was cramming all the summer I could into this last 18 days even though I still wasn't feeling quite the way I should be feeling by this point, after my surgery. I knew I shouldn't be hurting, but every once in a while I would wake up in a pain that didn't allow me to leave bed.
One day, just to prove that I was okay and that my surgery had fixed all my problems, my mom, Nick, and I hiked the incline. It was grueling, tiring, and no fun whatsoever. But it was exactly what my mom intended it to be. Proof. Proof that I was okay. If I could do the incline, I could do anything.
From then, until school started, I tried my hardest to keep myself from lying in bed all day with what we thought was "phantom pains."
The day school started, I was nervous and what you could call a total hot mess. I was late to all most all of my classes, and having the hardest time just making it through class, having to sit up. I assumed it was just my body trying to get back into shape.
I came home every day from school exhausted, in an incredible amount of pain. I figured it was nothing other than my body trying to get back into shape and getting used to doing something with my days.
Three days after school started, Nick invited me to go swimming, what I thought was an attempt to make me happy and keep me from getting discouraged by school. We drove further than I thought we would and I was beginning to get a little confused. When he wanted to go to the park before we went swimming, I was even more puzzled as to what he was trying to do. I went along with the plan, but was a little hesistant. I did NOT dress for this.
All of the sudden, from behind the play equiptment came all of my family and friends! I started to cry instantly, realizing what was going on. My fifteenth birthday wasn't for another week, but it never hurt to celebrate early! All of the friends I hadn't gotten to see ran up hugging me and wishing me a happy birthday.
This was exactly what I needed to keep me in a good mood, and keep me from giving up.
All afternoon we swam in the rain and talked non-stop. I couldn't have been any happier at that very moment. It was all I needed to be reassured that I could do this. That I would be okay.
It was just what I needed and as happy as I was to see my friends, it was still how evident how different all of our lives had become from one another. I ignored whatever feelings being on a completely different thought process brought on, and enjoyed the day. My day. My birthday.
The next week at school was rough, and I only made it through Thursday before I came home and melted into the couch, completely exhausted.
What was going on? I had the surgery. I'd done everything I could, and yet I was still in pain and still having the same problems.
I made it through my birthday, doing the only thing I wanted to do-- hang out with my friends and get my nose and belly button pierced. I figured that I'd been through enough pain that piercings were not going to be bad at all, and with everything I'd been through, I deserved these two piercings! (Right Mom!? ;))
For the rest of August, I struggled to make it to and from school, staying only for half a day or coming in late before I finally stopped going to school all together.
I had gone from having my life back, to the same pain I'd been in for almost four months now, in hardly any time at all. I was doing everything I could to get better and it wasn't enough. I was finally thinking that I was back on track for getting better and having a happy, healthy life back.
What else did I have to do? I wasn't sure what I did to deserve all of this pain, but whatever I did, it must have been awful. Having to lose my life to this excruciating pain, metaphorically speaking, was something I could not wish on anyone, not even those who had done me wrong.
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
July Pictures
(Starbucks before my big appointment with my mom- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)
(Day before the surgery, girls day with my friends- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)
(The day before my surgery, henna tattoo, the symbol for strength- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)
(The day before my surgery, feather extensions, I needed all the cheering up I could get that day- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)
(An hour before my surgery, waiting for IV, Kleenex and teddy bear in hand- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)
(Immediately after the surgery in recovery, on my way to good health- The summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)
(Harry Potter premiere, the day after my surgery- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)
(Overwhelmed with get well flowers, balloons, cards, and candy from Uncle Dave and Aunt Tina- Summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)
(All the beautiful get well flowers I recieved from my mom, my aunt and uncle, and my good friend, Cami- The summer between 9th and 10th, July of 2011)
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