Too busy for blogging.

I've neglected my blog for nearly a month now.  I've missed it.  And I know you've missed reading about my life.  Here's a quick rundown of what's happened since the last time we talked--or interacted via blog, I guess.

• My sweet friend Michele came and stayed a weekend with me.
• I introduced my mom to the game Guess Who.
• I spoke at Phi Lamb initiation.
• I won a $5 gift card in a group debate in one of my classes.
• I went to a pain management doctor.
• I wrote 7 papers.
• I recorded a video podcast at a recording studio.
• I had no social life.
• I spent all my "free time" doing homework.
• I tried to go to a movie but had to leave after 30 minutes.
• I tutored middle schoolers.
• I went to a Christmas party. (I'm not contradicting my no social life statement; it was for Phi Lamb)
• I finished 3 books and started 2 others.

And the rest is all a blur.  (I've spent lots of the month on pain meds.)  The good news is only one more week until Christmas break!

Books.

I finished two books yesterday.  I love finishing books.  I always feel so accomplished; not to mention it means I get to start another one.  The two books were Ford County Stories by John Grisham and Catalyst by Laurie Halse Anderson.

The John Grisham book was really good.  I'm normally not a big fan of the type of stories John Grisham writes, but this was great.  It's a collection of short stories, which made it really fast-paced and easy to read.    All of the stories are about small town Mississippi, and as much as I hate to admit it, they often hit close to home.  The setting was familiar and the types of people were like people I know or have met.  I highly recommend it.

Catalyst is a young adult book.  It didn't start out so great, but once I got into the meat of it, it was really good.  It turned out to be quite a touching story.  It's about a pastor's daughter who is a senior in high school whose dream is to get into a certain college; it's all she thinks about.  Then her neighbor--and meanest girl in school--has to move in with her because her house burns down.  The main character learns that life is about more than her selfish dreams.  Like I said, touching.

Life is hard.

This week it's been hard to get out of bed in the mornings and even harder to stay away from it the rest of the day.  I'm making it, though.  I pray that each day will be a little better than the last.  I'm getting better at being honest with myself and honest with those around me.  I've started telling people how I really feel rather than what I think they want to hear.  It's been good--sort of liberating, in a sense.  I'm allowing other people to help me carry my burden.  I thought I was protecting people by not letting them know how bad things were; I was saving them some worry.  I now know that was silly of me.  In my attempt to shelter those I loved, I was really shutting them out.  The Lord created us to live in community; He created us to need other people.  It's taken me a long time to learn that, but I am learning.  And I'm thankful for all of the people who are helping me carry my burden.  You are truly a blessing.

A new blog.

So I started a new blog.  In my search for new headache treatments and whatnot, I have come across several blogs people have written solely about their headaches.  They've been so helpful to me, I decided I should start a similar blog so that my experiences can hopefully be of help to someone else.  This blog was a little too personal to open to the public, so I started an entirely new one.  I'll still post on this one about non-headache things, but here's a link to the new one in case you're curious:

http://whenlifesaheadache.blogspot.com/

Bored and sick.

The only thing worse than being bored is being bored and sick.  I'm not feeling well today (Imagine that) so I can't really do much, which makes me bored.  But because I can't do much, I can't do anything about the boredom problem.

Here are the things I've considered doing:

• cleaning.  BUT it takes more energy than I have.
• making something.  You know, like a craft.  BUT I'd have to go to the store to buy supplies.  Again, too much energy.
• entering a writing contest.  BUT I can't find any contests without an entry fee.
• writing for fun.  BUT it requires too much thinking.
• reading a book.  BUT that doesn't always work well with a headache.
• exercising.  BUT that's worse than cleaning.

I'm running out of ideas.

I love books.

I love books.  I love everything about them:  the smell of them, the feel of them in my hands, and especially the words in them.  One day I'm going to write my own book; it's sort of a life ambition.  I love books so much I can't say no sometimes.  If there's a book sitting next to me--or within a 100 foot radius really--I can't not pick it up.   It's like an addiction.  It's so bad I can't finish one book before I move on to another.  I don't have the will to say no.  This can become a problem when, like now, I'm in the middle of four books at once.  It gets confusing, and then it takes forever to finish them all because I have to treat each book with equal respect, giving each equal reading time. 

I am so excited that I have found a career where I'll get paid (maybe not very much, but paid nonetheless) to read for the rest of my life.  It's almost like an alcoholic getting a job at a brewery--except slightly less fatal.  It's just too perfect.

Foreign kids.

This week I started tutoring some middle school kids who have moved to the United States within the last few years.  They're all just learning English, so they have a hard time in school.  I'm working with 4 kids.  They're all precious.  Let me tell you a little about them.

Helena:
Helena is an 8th grader from China.  She is the tiniest 8th grader I have ever seen.  She's probably no more than 4 feet tall, and I'm sure she weighs no more than 60 pounds.  Adorable.  Yesterday she asked me to help her with her history.  We were talking about slaves, and we read in her textbook that slaves could sometimes inherit land from their masters.  Helena didn't get it.  So I started trying to explain what the word inherit means.  This is quite difficult to do to someone who doesn't have an extensive English vocabulary...  You should try it sometime.  So I'm trying to explain to Helena that when someone dies, they can leave their stuff to someone else.  She still doesn't get it.  I worked on explaining that word for probably 5 minutes.  Then all of a sudden, little bitty Helena laughs and says with her cute Chinese accent, "Why you keep saying people die?"  Oh, Helena.

Jenny:
Jenny is also Chinese.  She has given herself an American name.  I told Jenny why I was there, and she didn't even give me a chance to make small talk before she pulled out her pre-algebra book.  She found what they'd been working on in class, and we figured it out together.  After we worked a couple of problems, she turned to the next section and we did the same thing, and then the next.  After about four sections, I asked Jenny when she's having a test on the material.  She said, "I don't know.  We haven't even gone over this in class yet.  We've only done the first section."  Those stereotypes about Asians being good at school are so true.  She pulled out another assignment to look at and I noticed that all of her stuff was so stinkin' organized!  Hers and Helena's both.  I don't know how those parents teach that, but it was amazing!

Ren:
Ren is the only boy I'm tutoring.  He's from Germany.  He shook my hand when I introduced myself--such a gentleman.  I asked him more than once if he had anything he wanted to talk about or look at, and he just kept saying no...  After a few minutes he took a cue I didn't mean to give and just left.  He was very polite about it, but he was also anxious to get back to class.  Maybe next time.

Weam:
Weam is the only 6th grader I'm helping; the others are 8th grade.  She is from Libya and wears a Muslim headdress.  She is a spunky little girl.  She talked my ears off.  As soon as I asked her if there was anything she wanted to work on, she said, "You came on the right day!"  I kept asking her to read things, and finally she said, "I'm tired.  You read it."  I told her that I was tired too; I'd been at school all day just like her.  She said, "Oh yeah, I've been at school since 6:45 this morning.  What time did you go to school?"  She kept trying to bargain with me, but I eventually won.  She had to decide on a bad guy for a scary story she has to write for English class.  She chose a boy she likes who doesn't like her back.  She then proceeded to tell me the whole story.  He's dumb, but she likes him anyway.  She doesn't know why she likes him.  He likes her best friend who is like her sister.  She should be mad at her friend about it, but she's not; she's still her friend.  Oh, the drama of a sixth grader.

Daily.

Blessed be the Lord, who daily bears our burden,
The God who is our salvation.
--Psalm 68:19

Love.

Quick Hebrew lesson:

The Hebrew Old Testament uses two different words to describe God's love:  the word ahab and the word chesed.  Ahab is the word often used to describe relationships between people--friends, family, or husband and wife.  It literally means to "breathe after."  It's an intense word describing a feeling of desire and affection.

Chesed is the word more often used to describe the love of God.  It's often translated into English as steadfast love, faithful love, unfailing love.  None of those phrases give the term justice, though.  Chesed is "a love that doesn't depend on the response or behavior of the receiver but rather on the steadfast character and commitment of the giver."  Chesed is a mind-set.

How amazing to know that the God of the universe breathes after me!  How comforting to know that His love doesn't depend on anything about me!  He's a great God.  He's a loving God.

Power.

Isaiah 40:26 says:
     Lift up your eyes on high
     And see who has created these stars,
     The One who leads forth their host by number,
     He calls them all by name;
     Because of the greatness of His might and the strength of His power,
     Not one of them is missing.

That's power!  I sometimes get frustrated and even angry because doctors can't figure out what's wrong with me.  BUT I have a Father who not only has the power to find out what's wrong with me but to fix it!  If He can take care of the stars, how much more can He take care of me?  A headache is nothing to a God who created the stars.

Ninth graders.

I have to do 50 observation hours at the local high school this semester.  Needless to say, I'm spending nearly all of my free time there--or what was supposed to be free time.  I've been in a 9th grade English I class.  Here are a few things I've learned.

• According to ninth graders, I'm very stylish.
• Ninth graders have no imagination.
• All ninth graders think they're funny.  Only 2% actually are.
• If you ever want to make a ninth grader mad, talk about his mama.

Rest assured.

Life has been busier the past couple of weeks than it has in a long time.  It's so bad I've forgotten to eat a few times.  I would have forgotten to breathe if it weren't involuntary. 

Sometimes I worry that I've taken on too much and that I'm only hurting myself.  My little head needs a break sometimes.  But every time I get to a point where I feel like I absolutely cannot go on, my Father reminds me of who's really in control.  I know, without a doubt, that I'm exactly where He has placed me.  I know He has plans for my life.  It doesn't matter if I don't know how I'm going to make it through tomorrow, much less the semester or year; He knows. 

A dear friend sent me a link to a sermon this week that was a huge encouragement to me.  It was about Jesus's temptation in the wilderness.  The pastor made the point that the Lord takes people (even Jesus) through hard places in order to prepare them for places of great influence.  Jesus was led into the wilderness to be tempted right before He began His history-changing ministry.  The Lord did not send Him out before taking Him through the wilderness.  Moses had to run away from his home and live in a foreign land before the Lord sent Him to set the Israelites free.  David did not become king until he had been chased by Saul for years.

My life right now is far less than ideal.  It isn't easy.  But I can take comfort in the fact that the Lord has purposefully placed me here and that He's taking me through it for a reason.  I don't know what God is preparing me for.  I don't know what plans He has for my life.  But I can rest assured that He is, in fact, preparing me, and He does, in fact, have plans.

Here's a link to the sermon if you're interested.  It's the one from 9/12/10 by Bryan Loritts.  http://itunes.apple.com/podcast/fellowship-memphis-sermon/id300452284

Never a dull moment.

If I ever say my life is dull, please correct me.

Since August 13, I haven't spent more than 4 consecutive nights in any one place--in any one city, for that matter.

Here's a recap of my week in case you haven't heard:

I had a spinal tap on Friday in New Orleans.  It wasn't nearly as painful as I was anticipating--not at first, at least.  Sunday afternoon I began feeling really sick.  I had an extra bad headache that kept getting worse and worse.  I had to leave class to lie down in the hall on Monday.  It finally got so bad that I called a friend and asked her to take me to the Emergency Room.  I explained to the ER doctor how I was feeling and that I thought it was a spinal fluid leak from the spinal tap I'd had.  He said that was likely the issue, and even confirmed the procedure I knew had to be done to correct it.  However, in keeping with the great luck I always have, no one in the area is licensed to do the procedure.  Thankfully, Mom and Dad were able to come pick me up and a doctor who a nurse friend works with was able to squeeze me in Tuesday morning between patients.  They did an epidural blood patch, which was way simpler and less painful than it sounds.  The patch worked (or has so far).  I've never been so thankful for my normal headache.

The spinal tap, as troublesome as it was, may have provided some insight on the source of my headache.  Unfortunately, the key word here is may.  My spinal pressure was on the low end of normal.  My doctor said this may mean I have a spinal leak, which (as I now know so well, thanks to my spinal tap experience) causes headaches.  The test they can do to find a spinal fluid leak is called a cisternogram.  It involves injecting a radioactive isotope into my spine and taking pictures.  Sounds easy, except they also have to put cotton wisp things (called plegets) into each of my sinus cavities--all six--and leave them there for 24 hours and then test them for spinal fluid.  I would have this test done in a heartbeat, but there are lots of ifs.  The test is not always conclusive; it doesn't always show a leak if there is one.  Even if they do find a leak, depending on where it is, it may not be able to be fixed.  Also, my spinal pressure only hints that there may be a leak.  If I were not also unresponsive to medication, the doctor would not have even suggested I have the test done.

I do have another option for treatment that sounds a little less painful.  I can have occipital nerve blocks, which sometimes stop headache pain.  If the injections worked, they would do them again a few weeks later to make sure there was no placebo effect.  If it worked three times, they would implant a nerve stimulator under the skin that would keep the nerve from causing pain.

I'm a little overwhelmed with the decisions I have to make on what to do next and with all that's been happening.  However, I'm also a little overwhelmed with how many people care about me--in the best possible sense.  I told only a handful of people about what was going on Monday, and my parents only told one or two people, but I can't even count the number of people who told us they were praying for us.  People I've never met prayed for me Monday.  I'm so grateful for the loving people my Father has placed in my life.  The prayers of God's people are a beautiful thing.

Back to square one.

The detox diet was going great...  but then Phi Lamb officer retreat happened.

I spent the weekend at a retreat center in San Antonio.  As you may guess, following a no-carbs, no-sugar diet is pretty much impossible when you're eating camp food.  I did as well as I could, but they didn't offer eggs and plain chicken at every meal.  Nor did the airports. 

Yesterday was the first day I've been completely back on the diet.  It was like day one all over again.  My body sort of went into shock again with the diet change.  I spent nearly all day today in bed.  If things go the same way as last time, though, tomorrow will be better, and Thursday will be even better than tomorrow.  I'm holding on.  I can so do this.

In other news, I start classes tomorrow.  And it's supposed to rain.  Not only will I get wet walking between classes, but I'll be sick.  Gotta love summer showers.  I'm also going to enter an essay contest.  Almost 6800 people entered it last year, so I may not have a great chance of winning, but you never know unless you try.

Detox day four.

I'm continuing the candida detox diet as instructed by the voodoo specialist. I'm not going to lie, it's been pretty terrible. I'm persevering, though. It was much easier today than it was the first three days. Today I got full. It was a great feeling. I never realized how good it was until I starved myself for a few days.

I'm trying to find things I can eat, since I can't eat anything I used to like. I ate green beans and eggs the first couple of days. That gets old really quickly, for those of you who've never tried it. I went back to the chiropractor on Monday and she sent me to both the health food store and the veggie section of the grocery store. At the health food store I got some crackers made out of pecans and rice that taste like pork rinds. They wouldn't be so bad if I didn't picture pig skin every time I ate one. I got some bread made out of spelt that's pretty good if you think organic when you eat it. (If anybody knows what spelt is, let me know. It would be nice to know what it is I'm eating.) I also got some amino acids that taste just like soy sauce. And it's in a spray bottle. I was pretty excited about that one. At the grocery store I got carrots, asparagus, squash, and sweet potatoes--none of which I like. I started with the sweet potatoes, cooking them a way the doctor suggested. I got two bites in before I couldn't stand it anymore. I even coated the second with the vegan soy sauce, hoping it would mask the flavor; but then it was just soy sauce and sweet potato--which is even more gross.

I'm still trying to like vegetables. I'm going to be on this crazy little diet for a month. I can't eat fake toast and fake soy sauce for every meal. Who knows, maybe once I forget what chocolate and french fries taste like, vegetables will be delicious.

Yeast.

I went to the chiropractor Friday.  It definitely made my top ten list of strange life experiences.  First, the chiropractor talked to me for a while, asking questions about my medical history, diet, etc.  That was the only "normal" part of the visit.  I lay down on the table, and she asked me to hold my leg out to the side.  She pushed on it and asked me to resist her.  She did this on all my limbs--legs, arms, elbows, hands.  In some places I couldn't resist her.  So she'd poke around on my leg or back and then try again.  I don't know what magic she did, but after all that poking I could resist her no problem.  Then she started back with the places where I could resist her.  She asked me to put my fingers in a certain place on my body--collarbone, bottom of my ribcage, top of my head.  With my fingers in one of those certain places, I couldn't resist her when she pushed on my leg anymore.  So she'd poke around and try again, and I was strong again of course.

Near the end of the appointment, the doctor/magician decided to test me for candida, which is an overgrowth of yeast in the body.  I'm thinking blood test, maybe even a urine sample.  No, that's for mortal doctors.  Dr. G said, "If the body needs something, when we put it on your stomach, it will make itself stronger."  I'm thinking, there's no way!  She asked me to stand and hold out my right arm.  She pushed on it like she did all those times before and could move it a pretty good bit.  Then she handed me a vial and told me to hold it next to my stomach.  I don't know what kind of voodoo was in that vial, but when she pressed on my arm while I was holding the vial, she couldn't move it.  If I hadn't felt it myself, I'd tell you it was all nonsense, but she was pushing harder than before, and it was no problem to resist her.  I looked around the room for incense or voodoo dolls.  If there were any, they hid them well.

Since Dr. G couldn't move my arm when I held that little vial next to my stomach, she diagnosed me with candida.  I'm on this crazy diet now.  No fruit, no cheese, no milk, no soda, no peanuts, no bread, no mushrooms, no potatoes, no corn, no white rice, no pasta, no sugar, no honey, no corn syrup, no ketchup, no mayonnaise, no barbecue sauce, no breaded meat.  Basically I can eat meat, brown rice, nuts (minus peanuts and pistachios), and green beans.  I also have to take 6 probiotic pills a day and 3000 mg of garlic pills.

I can hardly eat anything for two weeks, but it gets better.  Because my body has had so much yeast for so long, when it starts dying it makes me sick.  I feel so nauseous I might pass out, I'm itchy, and I crave sugar like a crackhead without her crack.

It's going to be a fun week.

If you're intrigued, here's a site that's entirely devoted to candida.  Real doctors know about it, too, it seems.

http://www.thecandidadiet.com/

Dairy-free is the way to be.

I'm currently trying this no-dairy thing in hopes that it will alleviate some of my ailments.  I started on Monday.  At first I was thinking, Shoot, this is going to be easy--I don't even like milk!  Wrong.  Milk is in everything--even Spaghetti-O's.

No ice cream.
No cheese.
No pizza.
No pancakes.
No ranch dressing.
No poppy seed chicken.
No sour cream.
No chocolate.

The list goes on and on and on and on.  I'm not so much complaining as I am sharing my state of shock with the world.  I went through my entire kitchen this afternoon (which is very well stocked), and all I found that I can eat is grapes, bread, fish, chicken nuggets, rice, and noodles.  I think a non-dairy excursion to the grocery store just made itself into my agenda. 

In all actuality, I really hope this dairy-less lifestyle helps my digestive system.  I can totally find an alternative to poppy seed chicken if it comes down to it.  If you know any good dairy-free recipes, please share.  I'm going to get tired of rice and grapes pretty soon.

Praxis.

I took the Praxis today--two of them.  It's a little scary to think my eligibility as a teacher depends on two tests.  What's scarier, though, is hearing all of the people taking the test with me talk about how they've taken it before and didn't pass.  That is slightly disconcerting to me on two levels:  1) It means the test isn't a breeze, so I may not have done so hot, and 2) it means a whole lot of teachers don't know their stuff.  The fact that they were there for the second or third time, however, means they're perseverant.  They care enough about being a teacher to pay boocoodles of money and endure a long and boring test multiple times.  I guess that's a good thing.  And I'd rather have a teacher who really wants to be a teacher than one who is a genius but could care less about the students.

One of the tests asked me super random questions, it seemed.  I have one teacher who is always telling us, "Pay attention to this; there are questions about it on the Praxis," or "I wrote my test questions in true/false format because there are true/false questions like this on the Praxis."  I didn't see any of the things she quizzed us on to make sure we were ready, and I didn't see a single true/false question.  Maybe I should tell her she needs to start teaching about nose bleeds instead.

Feeling like myself.

It's been a rough week--or really a rough two or three weeks.  I've been stuck in this perpetuating cycle where I do too much and so I get a terrible migraine, but then I still have so much to do, so I have to work every moment I can stand to sit up, so I work way slower than I normally would, and then I get no rest so I get even more sick.  I've been waiting all week for a day to catch my breath, so to speak.

That day is here!

I am officially caught up on my school work.  It feels nice.  I still have a million things on my to-do list, but I'm trying not to think about that right now.

I didn't realize just how good I was feeling (relatively) until I tried to sit down and watch a movie and got bored. A couple of years ago, back before I got so sick, I was terrible at watching movies.  I would try to sit down and watch one, but I would only think of all the other things I needed to do and get up and do them; or I'd get bored within the first ten minutes and find something else to do.  I've taken up watching movies in the past year or so, though.  Last summer I lay in bed all day every day and watched movies.  But tonight, I couldn't do it.  I feel like myself.  Welcome back, non-movie-watching self!  I've been missing you.

The future.

Thinking about the future always scares me.  In less than a year, I'll have a degree, which means I need to know what the next step is.  There are lots of things I want to do, but I don't know what I can do.  So much of my future depends on my health--something I didn't think I would have to say until I was 90.  I'm pretty good about avoiding thinking about the future, but every once in a while the 22-year-old girl in me has its way and I can't help myself.

A few things have happened this weekend that have got me thinking about the future again.  Where will I be in a year?  Will I stay in school or get a job?  Will I get married?  Have kids?  Will I be able to do any of those things?  So many questions and uncertainties.

It can be a little scary to think about.  I'm one of those have-to-have-a-plan people.  It's a great thing I have an always-has-a-plan God.  The future--even tomorrow--is so out of my control and so unpredictable.  As hard as that is sometimes, it's really comforting too.  Even if I don't know the plan, God does.  Even if I don't think I can do the things I may be called to do, I have a Father who holds my hand every step of the way.  That makes me even excited about what tomorrow holds--because I know who's holding tomorrow.

Update.

Let me update you on the never-ending quest for relief from the headache that is my life.

I've been taking Cymbalta for my headache, but lately it's been making me overly sleepy and a little crazy.  I called the doctor, and she switched my medicine to Nadalol, which is very similar to medicines I've unsuccessfully tried before.  We'll see what happens.  I also had an MRI of my neck a couple of weeks ago.  Everything was normal--of course.  So now I get to have a spinal tap to see if we find a cause for the headache that way. 

In other news, I can start moving into my new apartment in only one week.  I will be finished with one of my summer classes in exactly one week also.  Oh, and I made a 100 A+ on my midterm!  So headaches don't ruin everything.

I did it.

I made a twitter account.  I don't really understand it.  And I don't know that I'll like it.  But I'm going to try.  If you have any twitter insight, please share.  I'd like to get the full experience before I knock it.  If you want to find me, my username is kacirobertson.

New favorite.

I found a new great way to waste time.  Online trivia.  Beware... It's addictive.

http://www.sporcle.com/

Leadership.

I'm Phi Lamb president this year.  It's a lot of doing things and asking people to do things--which I don't mind, but it does get a little tiring.  The most encouraging thing, though, is having girls do things without me asking.  I have girls messaging and emailing me about things they've done or asking questions about things they want to do.  I love it!  It makes me want to work harder myself.  It also lets me know that I'm not leading the group all by myself.  Other girls are taking ownership, and other girls care about Phi Lamb.  One of my fears as leader is that girls in the group will sit back and criticize my leadership and the things the other officers and I plan.  If the group as a whole is planning and doing things though, they aren't going to criticize.  It also frees up my time to look at the big picture and really lead the group.  A leader's job shouldn't be to do everything but to point people in the right direction--toward Christ in my case.  I hope I can be that kind of leader.

By the way, check out this amazing poster one of our sweet and super talented Phi Lamb girls made.  It's these sorts of things that make leadership a rewarding position instead of a daunting task.

Under flap.

My self-described smart, fun-loving, compassionate little brother is spending the week with me.  Yesterday he was eating Laffy Taffy when I asked him to tell me the jokes that were on the wrapper.  He did:  "Where do boats go when they're sick?"  When I asked for the answer, his response:  "Under flap.  What is an under flap?"

Turns out Laffy Taffy gives the joke and then gives directions to look for the answer to the joke under the flap.  Maybe they should give more specific directions.

In case you're wondering, the answer to the joke (which Will eventually found under the flap) is to the doc.

Oh, brothers.

Becoming a morning person. Part 2.

So I had this great ambition of becoming a morning person, right? I think I prayed for that one a little too hard. Or maybe I should have been more specific in what I asked for. When I said morning, I was thinking like 8 or 9--you know, college-kid morning. Jesus was thinking 5 or 6. Today I woke up at 5, wide awake. I've never done that in my whole entire life. It was weird. I had no reason to be awake so early. Just two years ago, there were nights when I didn't go to bed until 5!

Maybe something good will come from this. I guess it's better than sleeping the day away.

Something I never thought I'd say: I am a morning person. (this week, at least)

Ah tests.

The doctor has scheduled me for another round of tests. I had 6 vials of blood taken Monday. Tuesday I had 7 x-rays. Saturday I have an MRI. Then I'll probably have to have a spinal tap.

I like that she isn't simply writing off my condition as "just a headache" and giving me new pills to try. That's nice. It would be nicer if tests weren't so painful.

I'm hoping something will show up on tests this time--something fixable. We'll see. If not, at least we've checked, I guess.

Aroma therapy hurts.

I ordered some lavender and peppermint oil because I read that it relieves headache pain. It came in yesterday. It's in a nice little tube with a roll-on applicator. The directions on the bottle say rub the oil on your temples, forehead, and neck. What the bottle doesn't say: Peppermint oil burns.

So I don't know if the smell of the oil actually helped my headache pain because the oil made new pain. Next time maybe I'll just smell it and not actually put it on my face.

So in case you have some inkling any time soon to put peppermint oil on your face, don't do it. It hurts.

I never knew a smell could be so painful.

Puppyless.

Life without a puppy is sad.

Mom went home today and took little June with her. It's only for a week, and it's for good reason. It's still sad though. Nobody greeted me at the door when I got home. Nobody is jumping on my keyboard while I type. Nobody is begging for my attention or bringing me toys to throw.

It's a sad, sad day.

I like my mom.

Mom is visiting this weekend. She's spoiling me. I forgot what it's like to live with a mom. In fact, I may not let her leave.

She's done all my laundry--even all of the rugs. She planted flowers to replace the dying ones I had by my front door. She bought me dinner last night and lunch today. She bought me groceries--and helped carry them to the car and into my apartment, not letting me even touch them if she could handle it alone. She bought my puppy a toy (which the puppy broke thirty minutes later). She rubbed my shoulders. She planned out the rest of my life. (That's an exaggeration--only the next few years.) She bought me books. I could go on and on.

I don't know what I'm going to do when she leaves. I might have to tie my own shoes. It's going to be rough.

We're having lots of fun together. I really like that gal. And it's a good thing, because from what I hear I'm becoming more like her every day.

Massage.

I decided I should give you an update on massage therapy.

It was a semi-fail. Sadly.

It's never a good sign when your massage therapist comes in fifteen minutes late to the appointment because she was having lunch. And then doesn't speak to you. And then takes you to the back of the building through a door marked Employees Only. Oh, I should have turned around and run.

Okay, so I'm making this sound worse than it was. It was highly awkward. And highly unprofessional. And highly un-relaxing. (The brightly painted yellow walls and crooked, badly painted cityscapes of France in the MRI-sized room did not contribute to the relaxation.)

I said semi-fail because I left feeling a little less tense than when I went in. But I think she actually made my neck feel worse.

I'm not giving up on massage therapy completely, but I'm going to try someplace I think may be a little more professional. And less awkward.

Comparisons.

Chronic headaches are often overlooked because people don't understand the condition. You can't see the illness the way you can a broken arm or a snotty nose. It isn't researched the way cancer is. It isn't treatable the way depression is. For that reason, many people (including doctors) often write it off as being "all in a person's head." I've been accused of making up my headaches and of having poor coping skills. I've been referred to counseling as a means of "curing" my condition. A headache sounds like such an easy problem that when people see the list of 30 or so drugs I've tried that haven't helped, they write me off as crazy. When I have to cancel plans or can't walk 200 feet because of a headache, friends (not all of them) think I'm a baby. I ran across an excerpt from a book called Migraine and Other Headaches by neurologists William B. Young and Stephen D. Silberstein that clears up some of these misconceptions by comparing headaches to more widely understood and accepted "disabilities."

"In general, headache sufferers are worse off than people who have arthritis, roughly similar to those who have congestive heart failure severe enough to interfere with walking up and down stairs and only slightly better than people with AIDS."

This never-ending headache is real. It is a big deal--no matter what a doctor says or what weird looks I get from people when I'm picky about lighting or how I spend rainy days. I thank God for the people in my life who do understand--who put up with my headache and love me anyway.

Wasted day.

Much to my disappointment, it hasn't been a good week as far as pain goes. I spent nearly an entire day in bed. I don't do that often. I've gotten okay at admitting that I can't run or can't go to a concert, but having to put down everything and lie in bed is really hard. And when I'm lying in bed I have nothing to do except think about the pain. That doesn't help anything. But yesterday I had no choice.

It felt like a total waste of a day, but it also felt good to take care of myself. I'm slowly learning that if I take care of myself today, I may feel a little better tomorrow. If I pretend I'm okay today, tomorrow will be so bad I can't pretend. Unfortunately, it's taken too much experience to teach me that.

Lots of things in life work that way. They creep up on you slowly, and before you realize it, you're in a place you never thought you'd be. Take care of yourself while the pain or stress or sin is manageable. If you pretend like it's not there, you'll be flat on your back and won't know where it came from. And I'd like it if you remind me to do the same.

Swimming.

I decided last week during my ultra proactive mood to start swimming. Best. Idea. Ever.

It feels so good to be in the water. I get tired super easily; but when I'm in the water, I can move and get tired a lot less quickly. I'm exercising. It's amazing. The pain even almost goes away while I'm in the water. Maybe I was supposed to be a mermaid.

My sweet, headache-inflicted friend Sarah has been going with me. I went four days last week. I think it's my new favorite thing to do. We swim laps. Kind of. If it counts as swimming if you're using a kickboard. But that's okay. Because we're moving. We're not sitting on the couch groaning and contemplating brain transplants.

Why didn't I think of this sooner?

Also thanks to my proactive mood last week, I'm getting a massage this afternoon. Can't wait for that one. I also ordered some lavender and peppermint oil. The smell is supposed to relieve headache pain, but smells trigger pain for me, so we'll see how that works.

Flawed.

This becoming-a-morning-person thing has one major flaw...

I'm no good at waking up.

At the copa.

Her name was Lola. She was a showgirl.

This has been stuck in my head for two days. It came out of nowhere. These same two lines just repeating over and over and over. I couldn't figure out what they were or where I'd ever heard them. Finally it came to me... Barry Manilow.

It's been such a delightful two days at the Copacabana, I just wanted to share it with the rest of the blogging world. I hope you catch yourself singing about Lola the showgirl for the next couple of days. You're welcome.

With yellow feathers in her hair and a dress cut down to there.
She would merengue and do the cha-cha.
And while she tried to be a star, Tony always tended bar.

Becoming a morning person.

I always feel best in the mornings. My pain is at a tolerable level (less than 5 for those of you who like numbers) until early afternoon. It then steadily increases until I hit a wall sometime between 5 and 7 when I'm worthless. So I have a solution: become a morning person. Starting today, I'm not going to use mornings to rest and get ready for my day. I'm going to use mornings to do the things I need to do and take the afternoon to rest. I've already gotten a good start. I got home from class a little after 11. In the hour and a half since, I've brushed June, vacuumed the living room, washed the couch slipcover, loaded the dishwasher, swept the kitchen, and cooked poppy seed chicken. Productivity feels good. So does a clean apartment.

A second problem I have (I have so many.) is that the wall I hit most days comes around dinner time. I have to eat or I'll get even more sick, so I get really frustrated trying to find something to eat when I have 18 elves hammering on my brain. My solution: cook something in the morning that I can simply reheat for dinner. Tada! I love when I have great ideas.

On a sidenote, June is shedding. Like losing-all-her-winter-hair shedding. It's confirmed--she's not part poodle. She is an illegitimate puppy.

Listen to the rain.

Listen to the rain falling
Falling from the sky
Sky so cloudy and dark
Dark as a moonless night
Night of endless rain
Rain that falls to the earth
Earth drinks and listens
Listen to the rain.

I wrote this in 2004. I used to love rain. One day I'll love it again, I hope. The rain drains me. Almost the exact moment it begins raining, I feel weak and nauseated and in excruciating pain. Summer showers are not my friend.

The brain of a person with migraines fails to adapt to changes, including changes in barometric pressure. So when the pressure changes, my brain freaks out, making my eyes blurry and my stomach queasy and my head throb. It's sort of like being allergic to a cat. When you get near the cat, your body freaks out and you sneeze. Except the cat is the world and the sneeze is a debilitating headache. So maybe that's not a good analogy...

The failure to adapt to changes explanation is mainly for a person with episodic migraines. I have a constant headache, which is a little different. A recent explanation I read for this said that if the migraine brain (which cannot adapt to changes) is overloaded with stimuli to which it cannot adapt, then it stays in the freak out mode a lot and then pain becomes the norm. The brain sort of rewires itself for pain being the normal state of things even when there's no stimulus. So basically if there are lots of changes a person's brain can't adapt to, then freak out mode becomes normal mode after a while. How do you get the brain back in normal mode? Your guess is as good as mine is as good as any doctor's. In other words, nobody knows. An explanation is a step in the right direction though.

The elves are angry.

At every doctor's appointment I've ever been to I've been asked to describe the pain I feel and haven't had a good explanation. I've stammered out with something like, "You know, it hurts." Yesterday I came up with the best metaphor for my headache ever. (The key word here is metaphor, by the way. This is imaginary.)

Elves. There are elves living in my head. You know, like the Keebler elves--the teeny, tiny, busy ones. They're very angry elves. You would be too if you were stuck inside somebody's head. They try so hard to get out. Sometimes I wish they'd just jump out through my mouth, but they never get past my throat. They bang their little hammers on my temples. They set off explosives. One has a hot air balloon that he tries to inflate, but it's too big to fit in my head; it just makes my head feel really full. They do take breaks occasionally. When they do though, they sit on my eyeballs to rest. Darn those elves.

If you know any tricks for getting rid of an elf infestation, let me know. It's getting out of hand.

Video games for dogs.

I recently found the best entertainment for dogs--bunnies. My family rescued two little bunnies after Dad ran over their nest with the tractor. (I'm not sure you can call that rescuing, but we'll go with that. It sounds a lot nicer than "My family destroyed some bunnies' home, so we put them in a 1'x2' cage inside with nothing to do but eat and stare at plastic walls.")

Anyway, our puppies love, love, love the bunnies. Sophie took to them right away, going to check on the bunnies even before she went outside in the mornings. June was a little slower. It took her a couple of days to discover them. Once she did, she was enthralled. The bunny cage was on the dining room table, and June and Sophie stayed in the chair with their paws on the table staring into the cage for two days straight.

Thursday morning I woke up because June kept barking. She doesn't bark unless there's trouble, so I finally got up to check out the situation. The bunny cage was on the floor. (Luckily, the door hadn't opened; the bunnies were still inside.) I picked up the cage and put it back on the table. The puppies hopped back in the chair and went back to their bunny-watching. In the words of mom, it's like a video game for dogs. Here are a couple of pictures:

Therapy.

My means of therapy changes periodically. For a while it was buying and watching movies. At times it's been reading or music. For a short while it was blogging. Really it's anything low-energy that takes my mind off the pain. The past couple weeks I've had two means of therapy: antique shopping and making things.

I found this really great antique store in town and then went three times in one week. That has potential to get a little expensive, not to mention I'm filling my house with junk. And to quote my mom, I'm going to turn into "a quirky old lady at 22." I love it though. I find something new every time. Here are some things I've bought:

New centerpieces for my kitchen table. Yes, that's a lettuce. It's ceramic. It opens up and you can put things inside. My words as I cleaned it off: "How could anybody let this go?!" And the cow salt and pepper shakers--I talked myself out of buying them one day but had to go back for them. I couldn't resist.
I LOVE this hat. It's living on my lamp for the time being, but I'm going to wear it every chance I get. I already wore it once--yes, in public--twice if you count the day I wore it home from the store. It's such a good hat.I've also started making things. Gluing is very therapeutic. The great thing about making things is I can make things and give them away. People love it when you make things for them. I made Mom a Mother's Day gift. (can't put pictures of that on here.) Here's a picture of some real cute key hangers I made, though. One is for Christian so she doesn't keep losing her keys and locking herself out of her apartment.

Signs of a busy week.

Reasons I know it's an unusually busy week:

• My email inbox is flooded. I check email religiously.
• My apartment is disgusting. Cleaning is my favorite pasttime.
• I haven't blogged since Sunday. I normally blog as a means of procrastination, but even my procrastination has become productive. I procrastinate on one assignment by doing another.
  
• I'm using facebook for conducting business, not for pleasure.
• I walked from the second floor to the third floor yesterday on an errand, but on my way back I somehow ended up on the fourth floor. I took the stairs, not the elevator, by the way. Subconsciously I was avoiding my work, which was on the second floor.
• Monday around 8 PM I looked down and thought, Oh no, did I wear the same shirt two days in a row? No. Morning had just been that long ago.
• Right now I'm taking a much needed break on campus because my class got out early. I decided to stay here instead of driving home. My reasoning? I'd have to exert too much energy in the walk to my car. It would cancel out the break.

Friday is only one day away. I was going to count the hours and minutes... but that takes more energy than I can find at the moment.

Remembering.

I was looking through some old pictures today, and it made me a little sad remembering life the way it was before a constant headache. Of course, life had it's problems then, but you never remember those parts looking back. I only remember the energy and happiness. I remember dancing and football games and being outside. I remember friends and never being alone.

Maybe one day I'll look back on the phase of life I'm in now and only remember the good too. Maybe I'll remember it for the friends and family who prayed for me nonstop and took care of me when I was too weak to take care of myself. Maybe I'll remember the ways I've grown and all the things I've learned. Maybe I'll remember the great God who's brought me through it all--who's never failed me. Maybe. Hopefully.

Statistics can be comforting.

I've heard over and over again that 20% of women experience migraines. That's 2 out of every 10. That's a lot. Every time I hear that I think, if that many people have migraines, why is it so hard for me? I often look around the room and count, thinking, 6 other people in this room have migraines; they don't seem to complain. I've never distinguished between the occasional, maybe once-in-a-lifetime migraine some may have and the constant, debilitating migraines that I have. I read some statistics today to that effect and it helped me feel better about my situation. Even though migraines affect 20% of women in the population, only 4-5% experience chronic daily headaches. Chronic daily headache is defined as pain for at least four hours a day 15 days a year. Only 0.5% of people experience constant pain. That's 1 in 200.

I don't like having a medical condition that affects only 0.5% of the population. However, knowing that everybody and her mama doesn't have this and go on with her everyday life does make me feel better about the way it affects me. It makes me feel less like a baby.

By the way, these statistics came from Paula Kamen's book All in My Head. I guess it's plagiarism if I don't tell you that.

Frustrating.

I felt really great for a few weeks--almost as great as my pre-migraine days. This week hasn't been so gracious, though. Out of nowhere I got a killer migraine Tuesday night that won't go away. It's really frustrating. It's always 3 steps forward and 2 steps back. I am getting better. I'm not back to where I was; I'm just not as well as I'd hoped. I get so excited about feeling good that setbacks like this are really hard. One day at a time--that's how I have to take it. Maybe tomorrow will be good again.

Hide and seek.

I keep losing little June. I always find her, though... under the couch.



She loves it there. When she wants to play, she runs around and explores under the couch. When she's tired, she sleeps under the couch. When she gets bored with one couch, she moves on to the other; except the second couch is too low to the ground for her to fit under, so she puts just her head underneath and cries about not being able to fit. It's so cute. The picture doesn't do it justice.

Real.

I'm always fascinated with the ways in which the Lord speaks to me and reveals things to me. I'm in awe every time. Lately he's been answering prayers and giving me confirmation in some really explicit ways.

First, I was feeling a little down and wanted to run to a friend, but the Lord reminded me that I needed to go to Him first for comfort. I sat down and began writing out a prayer, telling the Lord how I felt and asking for comfort. I was in mid-sentence telling Him I kept resisting the urge to call my best friend when my phone rang--it was her. It was just the comfort I needed and the comfort I craved, and He gave it to me as soon as I went to Him.

The second had less immediate gratification. I've been praying for weeks now about whether I should be president of my sorority next year. We had nominations two weeks ago, and I was nominated along with five or six other girls. I've still been praying that the Lord would show me if I should run for the position and put the right girl in the position even if it's not me. We have elections later tonight. As of this morning, all the other girls have taken their names off the ballot for president. It's just me. Talk about confirmation.

I think we often have this picture of God that He listens to our prayers and even answers them, but that he does so in an ambiguous way that's hard to understand and we won't see His voice or hand until months or years later. Sometimes that's true; but sometimes His answers and His provision are just as explicit and concrete as if coming from a friend. He's real. His love is real. His provision is real.

There's hope.

I did three things this weekend that I never thought I would be able to do ever again because of migraines:

1. I went to a movie. In 3D. (How to Train Your Dragon. I highly recommend it.)
2. I went to a concert. (Derek Webb. Also highly recommended. The concert was acoustic and outside, which made it migraine-friendly.)
3. I went to church. Big, loud church.

My head does hurt, and I'm really tired; but I feel better than I did on even a normal day a few weeks ago. If you had asked me in October, I would have told you I was going to be stuck inside alone in my pj's for the rest of my life. I'm miles better than I was then, and getting better every day. It's looking like I'm going to be able to lead a normal life someday--and someday soon.

Great news.

It's looking like I'm going to get to graduate next May! I won't be in school forever! Yes, it was doubtful for a while.

Now finding a job, that's a different story...

Spring has broken.

Spring break was great. I went to a teensy little town in Arkansas with my family and some friends. I went canoeing, spelunking (kind of), hiking, and shopping. It was a wonderful week--a pretty action-packed week for a gal whose idea of a party is a chocolate shake and a chick flick. Here are a few pictures.




It was really a fantastic week. I bonded with my brother on the river. His exact words: "Kaci, you must be feeling really good today. You're fun!" Mom bought me a super cool antique watch at Emma's Museum of Junk. I meant to take a picture of that too. I took pictures of some elk with Dad. His were better, but only because he had a better camera.

And Will gave me his cold.

So a fantastic spring break is over, and I'm left with an awful cold. I never get colds, and this is the second one in two months. I thought colds were supposed to be easy. I have a "chronic" illness for crying out loud, yet it's a cold that makes me miss class. How's that for ironic? I guess it's all what you're used to.

My mom is parent of the year.

I'm so proud.

Cute.

I know I already posted about June once this week, but it's really all that's happened in my life. It's been one of those weeks where I go to school and come home and do homework and then go to bed. I lead quite an eventful life. I also know that June's Ellisville family is probably wondering what she's been up to. And maybe I'm becoming one of those people who puts dog stories and pictures on the internet--so what?

June has learned a new game. She throws her toy off the couch. I pick it up for her, and she throws it on the floor again. Over and over again. And all the time she wags her tail. I think she might be counting how many times I'll fall for it. Here are some pictures.

Good day for life, bad day for headaches.

Today hasn't been a bad day. I went on a field trip with one of my education classes. We visited a school that is doing some pretty cool things with technology. It was nice getting away from Starkville and my classes for a day. I got to sit in on four different high school classes and talk to some of the students and teachers. Being in a high school and talking to students and teachers really confirmed that teaching is what I want to do with my life--what I'm supposed to do. So all in all, it's been a good day.

Headaches always seem to ruin the best of days, though. I expected it to happen. It was raining when I woke up, I had to ride on a bus for four hours, I had to be engaged for seven hours, and high schools have really loud bells--all of which are triggers for migraines. I took a lot of pain medicine today to dull the pain to a tolerable level, but then I was in a sort of fog. So it wasn't a great day as far as pain goes.

I made it though, and that's what matters. I'm learning not to judge how good or bad a day or event or situation is by my level of pain. As long as I'm able to get out of bed and continue with my life, I can look past the pain. If I take my attention off my pain to a degree and find something else on which to focus, I can cope much more easily. It makes for fewer depressing days and a better quality of life.

So even though today has been pretty painful, it's been a good day.

June.

This week I decided to bring one of the family's puppies to visit for a week. She can't decide if she likes it here; nor can I. Living with just my roommate and me in my little apartment is a big change from living with four people and another dog in a house with a big yard. I thought having a dog would be the best thing ever. She's kind of stressing me out though. She feels the need to be in my lap constantly. Even when I take her for a walk, she wants me to pick her up. She won't eat. She won't play fetch. The dog is depressed. And I think her anxiety is contagious. Also, she's terrified of my roommate. When Joanna is in the room, June gets so close to me, there's no way she can even breathe. I'm just glad she isn't a big dog. Then it would be painful for me too. Poor June.

She is getting better. She got off the couch without me a couple of times--of course, that was before she realized another person lives here. That might have set her back a little. This is a traumatic week for her, to say the least.

Christian.

These are old pictures. They are pictures other people have taken and given to me within the past year that I have neglected my camera.

I went house shopping a month or so ago with my best friend Christian. One house we looked at had these beautiful curtains. We decided it was a great photo op.







This picture was taken almost a year ago at Christian's brother's graduation. It was one of those rare occasions either of us dressed up so we had to take a picture to commemorate.






Christian's a pretty cool kid. You should meet her if you get the chance. She's a lot like me, only taller. And she likes eating sushi and riding horses. All of this is to say: my best friend, she's wise. See for yourself.

Change is good.

I guess I'm bored with my life lately, so I keep thinking of ways to change it. The most recent disconcerting moment in my life happened yesterday when I picked up my camera and realized the last time I took any pictures was in June. I decided to take action and to start once again documenting my life in photos.

This is picture number one. I call it Spring.


Spring at MSU means daffodils. I love it. Yellow is the happiest color. Yellow flowers make me smile. I saw this happy yellow daffodil and smiled and realized, it's spring!

The honeymoon is over.

I take a medicine called Topamax for my migraines. It does wonders. It's how I live some resemblance of a normal life. I started taking it about five years ago or so. Every time I increased the dosage, it would work great for a few weeks and then my headaches would come back as bad as ever. I just kept increasing the dosage every time my brain beat the medicine. After four years of doing this however, the dosage got pretty high, as you might imagine. So high I was crying over not having a bathtub at school and forgetting to put windows in the buildings I designed. Which was a problem. Needless to say, I decided to quit the Topamax for a while. I'm back on it now a year later. It was helping tremendously for a while. But I think I'm at that point again where the honeymoon is over, so to speak. I was hopeful that it wouldn't come this time. But it has. It's here.

Oh yeah.

Oh yeah... One more proactive thing I did was get a proactive haircut. In a moment of revelation, I realized it isn't in any way practical for me to have long hair when any kind of weight on my head/neck/shoulders gives me a headache. So I now have short hair. Problem solved. Kind of.

Being proactive.

I'm not only making an attempt to be more positive, but more proactive as well. I'm learning things about myself and about life with migraines and accepting that maybe life just has to be a little different for me. Not bad, just different.

The first proactive thing I've started doing is going to bed at the same time every night. That seems like an easy one, but in college things happen late at night. Last night, for instance, my roommate invited me to go somewhere at 10 PM. I had to be lame and say, "No thanks. It's past my bedtime."

I am also trying to start exercising. I get easily discouraged when it comes to exercise. I get tired super fast. Before my migraines got really bad I was in pretty good shape. I mean, I couldn't run a marathon, but I could run a mile or two. And I could walk all day and not be phased. Now sometimes I have to take a break halfway up the stairs in my apartment. I need to work on that though. I miss things like dancing and riding a bike. So I've started walking. Right now I can't walk fast or far, but it's something.

There are several other little things I've started doing with my new proactive mindset. I'm more careful about how I eat, knowing the way I eat affects the way I feel. I wore my sunglasses during class the other day. The teacher stopped in his lecture to laugh at me, and then the whole class turned around and laughed, but it kept me from getting a migraine from the sun coming through the window. I've started making sure I have headphones with me and putting them in when it gets too noisy around. I drink water like it's my job, knowing being even a little dehydrated will trigger a migraine. And so goes the list...

I'm working on it. I'm at a point now where I'm no longer in denial. It's nice. It's a good place to be. And I think my little head appreciates it too.

I am tech savvy.

I've had brilliant luck with electronics this weekend, and by brilliant I mean horrid. First my computer became involved in some promiscuity and didn't use protection. Needless to say it got an STD, or a virus if we're speaking in computer terms. I woke up Sunday morning to find 51 Internet Explorer windows open to porn sites.

To make matters worse, while my computer was lusting over internet porn, I dropped my phone in the toilet. Brilliant. Told you.

So now for the good news... Rather than paying someone to fix my computer I turned to internet forums and fixed it myself. It's working wonderfully. He hasn't done anything dirty since I fixed him. I think I'm just going to have to keep him on a tighter leash. As for my phone, I used Mason's put-it-in-a-bag-of-rice-to-let-it-dry-out trick and it's good as new. I'm glad I have an irresponsible brother to teach me tricks like that. Thanks, Mase. And if you need any help with waterlogged phones or lusting computers, turns out I'm pretty tech savvy.

This tutoring thing.

So this tutoring thing... The first day was fantastic! I helped a kid (or almost grown-up. He may not appreciate me calling him a kid.). I had a good time. I felt useful. Ever since then I've gone and sat in either the computer lab or library and done homework. Not because I'm a slacker or have more important things to do than help teenagers with homework. Just because the tutoring program is dumb.

I almost got to do something this week. Well, I almost thought I was going to get to do something. I walked into the library and two senior guys were sitting at a table with what resembled the components of a research paper spread out in front of them. I asked what they were doing and told them I'm pretty good at research papers. They asked me to sit next to them, giving me the impression that they wanted help. Or at least that they were working on their papers and may need help at some point. Boy, was I fooled. The kids sat there for an hour and talked about everything under the sun except their research papers. I read. Or I kind of read. I was more interested in their conversations than The Grapes of Wrath. First I was appalled that these kids were hanging out after school for two hours just talking and the teacher in the room didn't care that they weren't accomplishing anything. Then I was appalled at the things they were talking about. I think I might have learned a new curse word or two. I could overlook those things if I tried really hard. I was getting homework accomplished and their conversation was helping the time pass for me. But then...

The librarian, not the teacher in charge, walked over and asked the guys how their papers were coming and looked at their work. One guy asked her for help. She helped him spread out all his stuff and then proceeded to write his thesis statement for him. Seriously? She thought about what she was writing for a long time, got stuck, went and asked the English teacher (the one who was supposed to be in charge) for help, came back, worked on it some more, and then showed it to the guy and said, "Here's what we came up with. What do you think?" Seriously? Meanwhile, the student continued talking with his friend about the last good fight he was in. They're getting federal grants for this tutoring program, by the way. I'm glad they're teaching the kids.

Oh, and as I left she was beginning to write his paper outline for him as well. And this is the institution we call the American school system.

Roommate update.

A couple of weeks ago I felt I was at the end of my rope as far as roommates go. I had gone through all the options I could think of and talked to everybody I could think to talk to. And I had zero luck.

As of today I have not one, but three potential roommates. Out of nowhere. They've all sort of fallen into my lap as you might say. It's funny how the Lord gives you what you ask for.

Being positive.

This week has been one of setbacks and disappointments. It's only Tuesday and I'm feeling this way, if that gives you any indication of my state of mind. It's been busy and the weather has been gloomy--both of which are bad for me on multiple levels.

I keep trying to focus on the good things, but that's hard to do with an elephant sitting on my head. So I'm going to make a list. I'm going to prove to myself and whoever may be reading this that life isn't all that bad.

1. I got new sunglasses that don't hurt my head if worn in moderation. And they're pretty cute, too.
2. My car is clean. If you've seen my car any time within the past, oh, six months, you'll know this is a huge accomplishment.
3. I made a 100 on my Advanced Comp test today. I've been lost in this class from Day One.
4. I have an idea for my next big project. And I'm putting to use a $3 book I got on clearance at Books-A-Million to do the project.
5. I finally folded 3 loads of laundry I did over a week ago. (Getting them upstairs and into my dresser may take another week.)
6. I'm eating again. Which is nice. I missed food.
7. My power cord for my computer is officially on the way. It's been going in and out on me for a week now.
8. I get to see my brothers sing and dance next weekend.
9. Spring Break is getting nearer every day.
10. My mom is Parent of the Year. I always knew I had a cool mom.

Phew... That was hard work. But I do have things to be thankful for and things to look forward to. Life with migraines gets tough sometimes, but it's still life. And it's my life. It's the only one I've got. I can't wish every day away or sit around waiting for a better phase of life to come. I'm never going to understand the way my Father works, but I do know he has taught me a million things through this already. Maybe that will be another pick-me-up list for another dreary day.

I forget.

I'm getting better. I forget that a lot. I focus so much on what I can't do that I forget what I can do. And I can do a million times more than I could just a few months ago. I spent Friday night and Saturday morning running around with one shoe on in search of toothpicks and nail clippers, shuffling my buns around a circle of chairs evading being squished, building a tower out of newspapers, jumping rope, searching for a traffic cone blindfolded, and all the other things an overnight stay with thirty girls entails. There were narcotics involved, but I would have had to go to bed even thinking about doing those things a few months ago.

I forget to be thankful for small improvements. When I start getting better, I want to be as healthy as I was before. After Friday night and Saturday (which was WAY more than I've done in well over a year), I was upset that I had to back out on hanging out with friends Saturday night. Which is silly. I'm getting better. I just have to keep taking care of myself. And maybe next time I'll be able to do a little bit more. And maybe one day this won't be controlling my life anymore.

Hope.

Hope is the thing with feathers
That perches in the soul,
And sings the tune--without the words,
And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;
And sore must be the storm
That could abash the little bird
That kept so many warm.

I've heard it in the chillest land,
And on the strangest sea;
Yet, never, in extremity,
It asked a crumb of me.

--Emily Dickinson

Productivity is good for the soul.

Let me let you in on this fantastically productive day I had today. I wrote a paper on Walt Whitman's "Crossing Brooklyn Ferry" and Hart Crane's "To Brooklyn Bridge," followed by an equally exciting paper on the Expectancy Violations Theory. Shaved my legs. That was a big deal. It had been a while. I summarized A Single Shard by Linda Sue Park. It's a middle school book. I made three rubrics for a unit plan I wrote on the book. Went to class and learned about Tennessee Williams and meaningful learning. I then wrote another paper on my philosophy of education. Ordered a new power cord for my laptop. Mine died. I wrote a proposal for a presentation. Then I printed everything I had written. It was beautiful.

With all the writing practice I've had over the past few days, I think I might have a chance at the pros.

The great roommate search.

So the time has come to find a new roommate. This sounds like a simple task--who wouldn't want to live with me, right--but it's turned out to be a little more strenuous than anticipated. Let me give you a quick recap of how the search has gone so far.

There's my current roommate. She's moving to Jackson for her last year of school. There's Klancey. She was going to stay here for grad school and live with me. As of about a week ago I found out she's going elsewhere for grad school. I have to sign my lease in March; hence the frantic search.

Everyone my age is graduating, because that's what seniors do, I guess. So I decided to ask some of my freshman friends. First there was Faith. Faith also has migraines, so she understands a lot of what I'm going through. I thought it would be a pretty good match. However, because she has migraines, she gets help from Student Services on campus and gets to live in a nice dorm, which is where she'll be next year. So I asked Megan. Because it's February and everybody signs leases in March, Megan already has a place to live. Then I remembered my friend Lacy, who will also be a fifth year senior. She already has a roommate for next year. Next was Jessica. It seemed hopeful. She talked to her mom about it, was going to stop by and look at the place, but then came the deal-breaker. I'm allergic to cats. Jessica has a cat--a sick cat to whom she is devotedly attached. There was no compromise. Which brings me to where I am now. Monica. Monica graduated from here last year, but she's trying to get into vet school and is thinking about coming back and taking some classes. She's supposed to let me know something this week. I'm praying.

If the Lord has taught me one thing through all this migraine madness the past year and a half, it's that things always work out--just not always on my terms or on my time.

And if Monica's plans lead her elsewhere, let me know if you know somebody who will be at State in the fall and needs a roommate. I appreciate your prayers too.

I hate doctors.

I have a problem with doctors. It's like a phobia. Except it's completely legitimate. I don't know what it is about me, but doctors never believe I'm sick. I'm stuck in bed for an entire summer and the doctor says I have poor coping skills. I have headaches so bad I forget what it feels like not to be in pain and the doctor says I'm lying. That is all in the past, so I'm trying not to be bitter about it. I was mostly over it. Was. Until today.

I've had the world's worst cold the past few days. I was going to be tough and just pretend like I'm not really sick, because that's what I do. But after I couldn't sleep for coughing and my head felt like it was going to explode every time I moved and I hadn't eaten for two days, I decided I should give in and go to the doctor. I still had this doctorophobia, but after multiple people assured me I really should go to the doctor, I felt sure (kind of) that it would go okay. Right...

Doctor: Do you have the flu?
Me: No. I don't think so.
Doctor: Well, if you don't have it, you're going to get it from coming here. This is a bad place to come during flu season.
Me:
Doctor: Let me look in your throat.
Me: AAAH
Doctor: Let's try again.
Me: AAAH
Doctor: I can't see in there.
Me: AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHH [idiot.]
Doctor: You just have a sinus infection. Medicine won't help. You'll just be sick for a week.
Me:
Doctor: Do you still want the medicine?
Me: Yes. [That's why I came here, isn't it?]
Doctor: Are you allergic to anything?
Me: Yes. [and I give him the list.]
Doctor: Those aren't allergies. Those are side effects. Anybody can get those. You die from allergies.
Me:
Doctor: Come back if you get the flu.
Me:

I hate doctors.

I'm too young for this.

College is supposed to mean late nights and lots of energy, but for some reason my body thinks I'm eighty. Maybe it's the meds.

New life endeavor.

I received two compliments today:
1. I'm encouraging.
2. I'm well-spoken and have a good voice.
This could only mean one thing: I should ditch teaching to start a career in motivational speaking.

On a more serious note (This is for you, Mom), today was the first day I've had to take pain medicine in over two weeks. I'd say that's an improvement worth celebrating.

The start of something great.

I have to tutor at the high school for one of my classes this semester. I started yesterday. I wasn't sure if I would like it. Teenagers and migraines don't always mix well. I think it's the beginning of something fantastic though.

Yesterday I walked in not knowing what to do. I ended up walking into the algebra classroom. The teacher asked the students if anybody needed help, and one guy sitting in the middle of the room raised his hand. We'll call him Andy.

Andy and I worked through some equations together. He was solving the equations faster than I was! He'd had a quiz on the material in class that day and failed it though. I asked him what was up, and he said he just freezes up on the tests. He said he gets it. He takes notes. He even told me that the teacher told him once when he asked if she could slow down that when he gets a degree he can teach the class how he wants. Ouch.

I asked Andy (who is in tenth grade) what he wants to do after high school. He said he wants to be a lawyer. That's a pretty big dream, if you ask me. Especially for a kid who's spending time in after school tutoring. I wonder if Andy's algebra teacher knows he wants to be a lawyer. I wonder if Andy's teacher knows he's a whiz at solving equations. I wonder if Andy's teacher knows he cares enough to show me his quiz he failed and ask me to help him work through it with him.

I almost cried while I was talking to Andy. Just because I could see how smart he is and how much he cares. I wanted to go show his teacher all the problems he had just worked and say, "Look! He can do it! He's a smart kid!"

But I can't do that. I can only hope that when I'm a teacher, I take the time to actually get to know my students and to encourage them. I hope that I remember Andy's test anxiety and big dreams. Thanks, Andy.

What the HAIR are you doing here?!

Things I have learned from Koreans:

• Americans are fat.
• China is dirty.
• Japan is mean.
• The reason I don't have a boyfriend is that I look like I have one.
• Looking like I have a boyfriend really just means I'm cute.
• It's all about money.
• R's and L's are interchangeable (e.g. Hey! What the hair are you doing here?)

Oh, I love Koreans.

Rain.

Last night, I heard the rain. I heard the rain and remembered what a beautiful sound it is.

It always amazes me how the Lord gives me strength just when I need it. Normally rain gives me a terrible headache. So does being around more than a couple of people. Last night I was in a room with ten other girls for several hours laughing and talking. At one point we were all in a quiet room listening to music and praying, and it hit me! I was listening to the rain. Rain has been such a scary thing for me for the past several months, and last night it was beautiful. The Lord talks about creation displaying his glory and singing his praise. The rain last night did exactly that. It was a refreshing reminder of God's glory. There is hope. Jesus is in control. And I listened to the rain and liked it.

Worst news ever.

I made a new discovery tonight. I think ice cream gives me headaches. This is currently only a theory though, and one I am willing to test as many times as needed until I have more concrete evidence. Preferably disproving evidence.

I can't win.

I'm thinking this Paxil thing was a bad idea. I've slept through my alarm two days in a row, and it's almost 11 and I'm still in bed. This could be a problem. There has to be a better solution. Feeling happy and pain-free isn't going to do me any good if I never leave my bed. Unless I get a personal assistant. That might be nice.

Here goes...

I'm bad at calling.
I'm bad at facebook.
I'm bad at e-mail.
Maybe I won't be bad at blogging.