SHE GOT TO GO HOME!!!
She isn't necessarily better, but she made a good argument (against her doctor's wishes, of course) that she wasn't getting any better at the hospital and she was miserable - so why not go home where she's comfortable? So he let her go. She already feels better, just being at home. So I'm going home tomorrow night and we're gonna make purses and spend some time together. I'm glad she's feeling better, I just hope she actually gets better.
Anyway. Wanted to share the happy news!! :) Off to sleep now.
Saturday, September 29, 2007
Friday, September 28, 2007
I need a hug. A big, long, it's-okay-you're-safe, enveloping HUG. It has been a rough two weeks and, if we're being perfectly honest, it isn't getting better this next week. I know I'll be okay and I know that I will make it because I have an amazing Father who takes care of me and I know that I've been give an amazing network of friends and family that love and support me. But I really need a hug. And the two people that can make me feel safe and comforted like that aren't here. One's in Sherwood and I'll get to see him this weekend, so that's a major plus. The other, though . . . well, he's just not here right now. And won't be for a while. And there's circumstances. Eh.
I should be writing my lab report for Biology about now. I've gotten some of it done . . . and by some of it, I mean not much at all.
My mom is still in the hospital - it's been a week now. Here's the thing: this is routine for me and my family. This, however, never makes it easier. I've become a pro, however, at fooling myself and everyone around me that it doesn't freak me out and that I can go throughout my day without worrying. IT'S A LIE. A huge lie. It scares the crap out of me. Every time my dad calls (while she's in the hospital) I'm worried that he's going to tell me she's gotten worse or they've found something awful or some such other thing. The rational part of me knows this isn't what's going to happen about 99% of the time . . . but it happens. Not very often, thank God. They (well, really, me) have made me paranoid. If my dad calls at an odd time or several times in a short span, I immediately think it has to do with my mother and that they're rushing her off to the ER again. It's sad. What's worse is that my mom being in the hospital makes our relationship absolutely wonderful. I call her at least once a day, usually two or three times, to check on her and make sure she's okay. My patience with her is 100x more than it normally is and I'll answer just about any question and talk to her about anything and everything. My relationship with my mother should not be dependent on her health. What kind of daughter am I? I love my mom, I do. She's an amazing woman and one of the most people-focused humans I've ever met. She'd give you every single thing out of our house if you needed it. I've watched her try. It's so easy for her to know people and I don't know anyone that doesn't like her (we're not talking about annoyed, that's a different subject). But there is something about this woman that gave birth to me that irritates the living daylights out of me. I adore her and I'd do anything for her, but I can't seem to control my temper when it comes to her. And I hate it. I shouldn't be so angry toward her and I don't know what's wrong with me! I tell people that her being in the hospital is normal now and that I'm fine, really, and that she's okay. She's not okay. She's a really, really sick woman and I'm scared to death that I'm going to lose her in the next year or two and that she won't be around anymore. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her. I know it will happen some day, but I don't want that day to be soon. I want that day to be 20, 30 years down the road when I'm married and I have kids and she's seen them growing up and they get to know their grandmother. I hate that she's so sick and that most of it can't be fixed because she did it herself by not controlling her diabetes and taking care of herself. I don't like her being in pain and constantly ill. She's so miserable most of the time, but you don't know it because she won't admit it to most people. I'm so proud of her for finally listening to the doctors and me and my dad - for changing her lifestyle (a big change, too) and making a huge effort to start living a healthy life. She's done such a good job and I so wish that it would fix the damage she's done, but it won't. Her lifestyle change will basically just keep her alive longer, it can't fix the damage she's done in the 14 years of not controlling her diabetes. I'm so grateful the doctors got her attention, though. Because she wouldn't listen to me and I'd given up . . .
And. Now that I've released all that. I should go finish (start) my lab report.
Ciao!
Jen
I should be writing my lab report for Biology about now. I've gotten some of it done . . . and by some of it, I mean not much at all.
My mom is still in the hospital - it's been a week now. Here's the thing: this is routine for me and my family. This, however, never makes it easier. I've become a pro, however, at fooling myself and everyone around me that it doesn't freak me out and that I can go throughout my day without worrying. IT'S A LIE. A huge lie. It scares the crap out of me. Every time my dad calls (while she's in the hospital) I'm worried that he's going to tell me she's gotten worse or they've found something awful or some such other thing. The rational part of me knows this isn't what's going to happen about 99% of the time . . . but it happens. Not very often, thank God. They (well, really, me) have made me paranoid. If my dad calls at an odd time or several times in a short span, I immediately think it has to do with my mother and that they're rushing her off to the ER again. It's sad. What's worse is that my mom being in the hospital makes our relationship absolutely wonderful. I call her at least once a day, usually two or three times, to check on her and make sure she's okay. My patience with her is 100x more than it normally is and I'll answer just about any question and talk to her about anything and everything. My relationship with my mother should not be dependent on her health. What kind of daughter am I? I love my mom, I do. She's an amazing woman and one of the most people-focused humans I've ever met. She'd give you every single thing out of our house if you needed it. I've watched her try. It's so easy for her to know people and I don't know anyone that doesn't like her (we're not talking about annoyed, that's a different subject). But there is something about this woman that gave birth to me that irritates the living daylights out of me. I adore her and I'd do anything for her, but I can't seem to control my temper when it comes to her. And I hate it. I shouldn't be so angry toward her and I don't know what's wrong with me! I tell people that her being in the hospital is normal now and that I'm fine, really, and that she's okay. She's not okay. She's a really, really sick woman and I'm scared to death that I'm going to lose her in the next year or two and that she won't be around anymore. I don't know what I'd do if I lost her. I know it will happen some day, but I don't want that day to be soon. I want that day to be 20, 30 years down the road when I'm married and I have kids and she's seen them growing up and they get to know their grandmother. I hate that she's so sick and that most of it can't be fixed because she did it herself by not controlling her diabetes and taking care of herself. I don't like her being in pain and constantly ill. She's so miserable most of the time, but you don't know it because she won't admit it to most people. I'm so proud of her for finally listening to the doctors and me and my dad - for changing her lifestyle (a big change, too) and making a huge effort to start living a healthy life. She's done such a good job and I so wish that it would fix the damage she's done, but it won't. Her lifestyle change will basically just keep her alive longer, it can't fix the damage she's done in the 14 years of not controlling her diabetes. I'm so grateful the doctors got her attention, though. Because she wouldn't listen to me and I'd given up . . .
And. Now that I've released all that. I should go finish (start) my lab report.
Ciao!
Jen
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Well I've had one interesting evening. I got all dolled up for the fun of it, which really was a lot of fun, and I had absolutely nothing to do. Sad times, no? SO. My friend, Callie, and I went over to a friend-of-a-friend's room (Jeremy's friend, Garret) to watch Hot Fuzz. I swear there was about 2o people there. We couldn't even open the door all the way because we had so many couches, chairs and people. Pretty sure that's a fire code violation, but, eh. There were four RAs there (including myself) and what makes this funny is that we got in trouble, not once, but twice. For noise. Tabor didn't even say anything about the amount of people in the room, just the noise. It was fun, though, and turns out Hot Fuzz is a really good movie. Really funny.
Anyway, that ended, so Callie and I decided that we were going to a party to check on one of her residents. We finally find the place we're going and realize that there is a TON of alcohol there, so we very quickly leave (um, our jobs are in serious jeopardy if we're caught anywhere near alcohol and with knowledge of it). So we start trying to figure out what to do and find out that the Sig Eps are having a party. Long story short, I went a party at a frat house tonight. I think I can officially say I'm a college student now. Not really, but it was fun. Not too terribly exciting, but I was amused for a while. There wasn't alcohol (in the open, anyway) and they had the UCAPD at the party keeping an eye on stuff. It was fun, I didn't stay long, though. I went to the fountain and just sat there with my feet in for a while. It was really nice and I'm glad I went and just had some peace for a while.
I'm off to bed now, though. I gotta be at the Student Center by 8:15 a.m. because we're helping with a clean-up project in LR tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. Go CircleK!!
Anyway, that ended, so Callie and I decided that we were going to a party to check on one of her residents. We finally find the place we're going and realize that there is a TON of alcohol there, so we very quickly leave (um, our jobs are in serious jeopardy if we're caught anywhere near alcohol and with knowledge of it). So we start trying to figure out what to do and find out that the Sig Eps are having a party. Long story short, I went a party at a frat house tonight. I think I can officially say I'm a college student now. Not really, but it was fun. Not too terribly exciting, but I was amused for a while. There wasn't alcohol (in the open, anyway) and they had the UCAPD at the party keeping an eye on stuff. It was fun, I didn't stay long, though. I went to the fountain and just sat there with my feet in for a while. It was really nice and I'm glad I went and just had some peace for a while.
I'm off to bed now, though. I gotta be at the Student Center by 8:15 a.m. because we're helping with a clean-up project in LR tomorrow at 9:00 a.m. Go CircleK!!
Friday, September 7, 2007
You Belong to Me by Jason Wade
So it's been a while. About two weeks worth of while. I'm back, though! A lot of stuff has happened between then and now, and I'm pretty much just gonna let that stuff be. A quick summary, however:
- RA training is intense. "Behind Closed Doors" is some of the most intense training I think I'll probably ever go through, unless I decide to join the military, and that's not gonna happen. They have us walk into situations with the bare minimum of information and confront said situation. These situations were colleague conflict, residents drinking, roommate conflict (hate crime), residents drinking/partying, possible rape/sexual assault (bloody scene, let me tell ya), and suicide (all you knew was an alarm clock was going off). Yeah.
- Classes are intense. Well, Neuroscience is intense. Sign language rocks my socks off so much I just wear flip flops. First aid is incredibly easy, and so is Biology. Honors, well, Honors is a buttload of reading, but it's fun reading. I'm learning about Ancient Rome. Heck. Yes.
- My residents are absolutely amazing. Really, I love them all dearly and they make my life happy (for now). My staff, some of the most wonderful people in the world and I am so incredibly grateful to God for allowing me this opportunity and placing me where He did. He definitely knows what He's doing.
Speaking of God. The bullhorn guys have been here. If you know me at all, you know that this pisses me off more than just about anything. They're horrible and they just make Christianity so belligerent and hostile. Which, last time I checked, it isn't. Pretty sure Christ was all about loving people. Pretty sure he was against the Pharisees because they were belligerent hypocrites that talked the talked and flouted the walk. Anyway. I'll stay away from that soapbox, for now. Well, my blood pressure was relatively higher than normal that day because they just aggravate me, I had a Neuroscience test and I had a paper due for Honors. To make things worse, I noticed they've brought their kids with them this time and have the children holding anti-abortion signs (the ones with the aborted babies on them). So I go to class and my Honor's professor, Doug, gives me this grand idea of going and playing with the kid, getting him away from all the confrontation. Brilliant, no? So. I get out of class and I go sit rather peacefully on the steps of the chapel for a few minutes and I notice that my friends Aaron and Andrew are there. They come over, we chat for a bit and we all agree that we want the kid away from all these belligerent people (the students were starting to barrage the kid with questions). Well, we find out what his name is and call him over to come talk to us. His name is Silas, by the way, and he's TEN. So, pray that he realizes that this isn't the way to bring Jesus to the world/the world to Jesus. It was an absolutely amazing opportunity, though. For me. God gave me the chance to take a situation that makes me so incredibly angry and find a better way to deal with, a chance to make it a happy situation and use it for His glory and to show His love instead of my anger. It was wonderful. We asked him just about every question we could possibly think of - favorite food, what animal he would be, if he has a pet, brothers, sisters, what he likes to do, what sports he plays, what his favorite subject and so on. He was adorable and soo polite. Aaron taught him how to make paper airplanes and then they had contests to see whose plane flew the furthest. It was adorable and I'm so glad that God allowed me to be there. And I'm glad that He showed me a way to change my attitude and perspective. What a lesson.
Anyway. That's my happy story for the evening.
My funny story for the evening:
A friend of mine from high school came to see me for a bit this evening. A friend that I'm not very close to at all and that I don't really have a lot of respect for. But that's beside the point, well, actually, it's the end of it. Anyway. We go get coffee and chat for a bit and then he decides to ditch me for his freshmen buddy. Deciding that it doesn't matter if I'm an RA, he proceeds to tell me about how they're gonna go get drunk in this kid's room, which happens to be on campus in a residence hall. Um, hello, we live on a DRY campus in a DRY county and I'M AN RA. He talks to me about this for about ten minutes or so, I remind him that I'm an RA and he was like "Yeah, I know. So?" Well, I walk him to the building, get in, meet this kid that he's drinking with, and find out his name and all the pertinent info. I let 'em go off to his room talking about how they're gonna go get plastered. What they don't know, though, is that I have to report this. It's my JOB. Poor kid, he chose a bad friend who's retarded enough to tell an RA what they're about to do. So, I call the RA on duty and tell them everything I know, we look up the room number and now she's going to keep an eye out for alcohol and such. I figure if he's retarded enough to tell me, I can be mean enough to turn him in. Besides, drinking that much isn't good for you, especially when you're driving to LR a few hours later. Nope, I'm not letting it happen if I can stop it.
I'm working on my life right now, which, considering I'm in college, is probably to be expected. God and I are most definitely working through some issues. I'm reading Wild At Heart throughout these few weeks (yes, I know it's technically for boys, but that's stuff girls need to know, it doesn't work well if only guys know it). And let me tell ya. That book is absolutely amazing and I'm learning all about the stuff I've done wrong and the few things I've done right. I'm also working hard on reading my Bible every day. It's wonderful when I do, but it's so easy to rationalize why I "don't have time." Which is a load of crock. But, yeah. God and I are working on it. I've done some stuff lately that I'm pretty much kicking myself for and wondering where/when that side of me showed up. But it's cool, because now that I know it's there, I can battle it. My self-confidence/self-esteem is goin' up, which is a wonderful feeling and it is so incredibly comforting and empowering to know that God loves me sooo much no matter my mood or what I've done. He still wants me fully and completely and He thinks I am absolutely gorgeous.
Well, I think this is long enough for now. I think I just needed to write. It feels good to pour out my thoughts into something. I've missed it. Life is so beautiful. I love you guys.
- RA training is intense. "Behind Closed Doors" is some of the most intense training I think I'll probably ever go through, unless I decide to join the military, and that's not gonna happen. They have us walk into situations with the bare minimum of information and confront said situation. These situations were colleague conflict, residents drinking, roommate conflict (hate crime), residents drinking/partying, possible rape/sexual assault (bloody scene, let me tell ya), and suicide (all you knew was an alarm clock was going off). Yeah.
- Classes are intense. Well, Neuroscience is intense. Sign language rocks my socks off so much I just wear flip flops. First aid is incredibly easy, and so is Biology. Honors, well, Honors is a buttload of reading, but it's fun reading. I'm learning about Ancient Rome. Heck. Yes.
- My residents are absolutely amazing. Really, I love them all dearly and they make my life happy (for now). My staff, some of the most wonderful people in the world and I am so incredibly grateful to God for allowing me this opportunity and placing me where He did. He definitely knows what He's doing.
Speaking of God. The bullhorn guys have been here. If you know me at all, you know that this pisses me off more than just about anything. They're horrible and they just make Christianity so belligerent and hostile. Which, last time I checked, it isn't. Pretty sure Christ was all about loving people. Pretty sure he was against the Pharisees because they were belligerent hypocrites that talked the talked and flouted the walk. Anyway. I'll stay away from that soapbox, for now. Well, my blood pressure was relatively higher than normal that day because they just aggravate me, I had a Neuroscience test and I had a paper due for Honors. To make things worse, I noticed they've brought their kids with them this time and have the children holding anti-abortion signs (the ones with the aborted babies on them). So I go to class and my Honor's professor, Doug, gives me this grand idea of going and playing with the kid, getting him away from all the confrontation. Brilliant, no? So. I get out of class and I go sit rather peacefully on the steps of the chapel for a few minutes and I notice that my friends Aaron and Andrew are there. They come over, we chat for a bit and we all agree that we want the kid away from all these belligerent people (the students were starting to barrage the kid with questions). Well, we find out what his name is and call him over to come talk to us. His name is Silas, by the way, and he's TEN. So, pray that he realizes that this isn't the way to bring Jesus to the world/the world to Jesus. It was an absolutely amazing opportunity, though. For me. God gave me the chance to take a situation that makes me so incredibly angry and find a better way to deal with, a chance to make it a happy situation and use it for His glory and to show His love instead of my anger. It was wonderful. We asked him just about every question we could possibly think of - favorite food, what animal he would be, if he has a pet, brothers, sisters, what he likes to do, what sports he plays, what his favorite subject and so on. He was adorable and soo polite. Aaron taught him how to make paper airplanes and then they had contests to see whose plane flew the furthest. It was adorable and I'm so glad that God allowed me to be there. And I'm glad that He showed me a way to change my attitude and perspective. What a lesson.
Anyway. That's my happy story for the evening.
My funny story for the evening:
A friend of mine from high school came to see me for a bit this evening. A friend that I'm not very close to at all and that I don't really have a lot of respect for. But that's beside the point, well, actually, it's the end of it. Anyway. We go get coffee and chat for a bit and then he decides to ditch me for his freshmen buddy. Deciding that it doesn't matter if I'm an RA, he proceeds to tell me about how they're gonna go get drunk in this kid's room, which happens to be on campus in a residence hall. Um, hello, we live on a DRY campus in a DRY county and I'M AN RA. He talks to me about this for about ten minutes or so, I remind him that I'm an RA and he was like "Yeah, I know. So?" Well, I walk him to the building, get in, meet this kid that he's drinking with, and find out his name and all the pertinent info. I let 'em go off to his room talking about how they're gonna go get plastered. What they don't know, though, is that I have to report this. It's my JOB. Poor kid, he chose a bad friend who's retarded enough to tell an RA what they're about to do. So, I call the RA on duty and tell them everything I know, we look up the room number and now she's going to keep an eye out for alcohol and such. I figure if he's retarded enough to tell me, I can be mean enough to turn him in. Besides, drinking that much isn't good for you, especially when you're driving to LR a few hours later. Nope, I'm not letting it happen if I can stop it.
I'm working on my life right now, which, considering I'm in college, is probably to be expected. God and I are most definitely working through some issues. I'm reading Wild At Heart throughout these few weeks (yes, I know it's technically for boys, but that's stuff girls need to know, it doesn't work well if only guys know it). And let me tell ya. That book is absolutely amazing and I'm learning all about the stuff I've done wrong and the few things I've done right. I'm also working hard on reading my Bible every day. It's wonderful when I do, but it's so easy to rationalize why I "don't have time." Which is a load of crock. But, yeah. God and I are working on it. I've done some stuff lately that I'm pretty much kicking myself for and wondering where/when that side of me showed up. But it's cool, because now that I know it's there, I can battle it. My self-confidence/self-esteem is goin' up, which is a wonderful feeling and it is so incredibly comforting and empowering to know that God loves me sooo much no matter my mood or what I've done. He still wants me fully and completely and He thinks I am absolutely gorgeous.
Well, I think this is long enough for now. I think I just needed to write. It feels good to pour out my thoughts into something. I've missed it. Life is so beautiful. I love you guys.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)