I have re-located... Follow here to the new blog.
Influenza and Bronchitis and Respiratory Infection OH MY!
6:20 PM
/
Posted by
xo_bones
/
comments (0)
So the story goes like this:
I went to Sibley Hospital on 10/31 to see why I was feeling so crappy, although mother told me I was being a "drama queen". Good thing I did because it turned out I had Bronchitis. Bronchitis + cigarettes = pneumonia, so I decided to put my bad habit on hold until I recovered.
A few days later, 11/04 to be exact, I was feeling worse: I had now added mouth pain, sinus pressure, and lightheadedness to my symptoms. So, as my discharge papers said, I returned to Sibley. Once again, good thing I did.
The first step was to take an X-Ray to see if I had pneumonia. That came back negative. Next step was an Electrocardiography (ECG or EKG). The patterns weren't coming out great so the next step was the best: blood work! Apparently I was so dehydrated that my blood was barely coming out, so after filling as many vials as possible (& almost passing out), they pumped me with a shit tone of fluids to hydrate me. My blood came out great except for one issue:
In everyones blood there is a marker that shows up if you are risk for a clot. Mine was showing up high. They told me I probably had a blood clot in my lung. This was to explain the shortness of breath, the lightheadedness and a few other issues. Time for a CAT Scan. When getting a CAT scan they pump you with dye that makes you really hot and feel like you peed your pants- not fun! So After 6 and half hours of waiting at Sibley Hospital it turned out I did not have a clot, but rather I began with a flu, which turned into Bronchitis, and is now a respiratory infection.
So I left the Hospital with my new inhaler, Prednisone, and a Z-Pack.
After phone calls and research it turns out that new research shows that Yaz Birth Control (the pill I have been on for about a year) is putting users at high risk for clots. Yes, most BC's do this, but this one is worse. In addition, smokers who take Yaz have a double risk. JOY!
So now I am switching BC pills and quitting my 3 year addiction to cigarettes.
But boy, is this hard. I am now realizing that cigarettes are such a huge part of my life. It is almost impossible to think about what it will be like in LA not smoking. Sitting outside with my mom, drives over the hill with Nikki, Starbucks with the girls... it'll never be the same. And the worse part is, I really miss them.
I wrote this on my way to LA but never had a chance to post it till now...
Hello from 38,000 miles above ground. As I soar across the Grand USA (all 3,000 glorious miles) I am left to think about how excited I am to return to LA. It’s funny, I never thought I would miss LA, especially since I have spent my whole life trying to leave. But this is not a miss LA like I won’t be able to leave when it is time to, it’s more that I was starting to get frustrated with DC and going to LA will remind me why I am there. If that makes any sense. I think that I am starting to have a crisis about AU. As mentioned before, I should have gone to NYC. But now that I think about it more, I don’t think I want to keep my major anymore. Public Communication, Broadcasting and American Studies is great, but I am sort of falling out of love with Communication and more in love with AMST. I looked at the classes I would be taking for the next 3-5 semesters and none of them thrilled me. And no, mom, this is not because I don’t want to do the work. It just doesn’t wow me anymore. I want to end up in the same place as before, I just feel like these classes are a waste. Now granted what can I do with a degree in AMST? But isn’t that the point of college? Study something that you love and that fascinates me? Well I love American Studies; it fascinates me. But then this argument comes full circle because I begin to think about how leaving the Communication department means I don’t have resources needed to get the job I want. Then I think, “well what if I majored in AMST and minored in Comm?” But then I ask, “which focus in Comm?” And then I come back to thinking I should just do the integrated major as I am doing now because 2/3 will get me a job and the third I love. See, this is how my brain works. It’s hard being me.
Anyway, it just occurred to me as I was updating my ringtones for my iPhone that the cool thing about flying home the night before your birthday is that you (or me, in this case) get to turn 21 four times. I turned 21 in DC an hour ago, I am currently in the central area of the US which means that I turned 21 about 10 minutes ago in Texas and then I still have another hour until I am 21 once I am over parts of Arizonia and then an hour after I land I will be 21 in LA. Kind of cool, huh?
The night before my birthday is a weird night for me. Traditionally spent alone, I am always so depressed on this day. I am generally alone, at home, while my girlfriends are out. But it’s not that they left me, it was more like I just didn’t feel like being out. Turning a year older was always so hard for me. I spend 364 days of the year wanting to be older. But that one extra day I am upset and want to hold onto my youth. But not this year! This year I am kissing 20 goodbye happily. 21 is a start to a new life, new options, new friends. I am excited for this new adventure. It is a day that I have been waiting for, for a very long time. And I know everyone says the same thing, but I really feel like I have waited longer than some, not sure why. Probably because I started going to clubs at 14 and wishing I was actually 21 so I didn’t need a fake ID anymore. Well, the day has finally come. And I will be celebrating in Vegas with some old and some new friends (hmmm… seems like a good time to get married- someone bring blue!) I can almost smell it now. Ahhh…
Today is the first day of Rosh Hashanah, aka, the Jewish New Year. Normally this is a holiday that I enjoy. It always comes right when I am in need of a little praying and it is a time to seperate from all things current and reflect on all things past. Services are like a history class lecture, taking you back into time and reminding you of where you come from. You are given the chance to ask G-d to listen to you and hear you out in this special time. You are given the opportunity to ask for forgiveness, wish wellness to those in need, and remember those who have passed. The latter always puts me in tears. You sing in native tongue and out loud so that all those around you can hear your voice blend with theirs and you know you are not alone.
But this service, was not the same.
It was a known fact that I would feel uncomfortable in tonight's service. First of all, services were held in the Kay Spiritual Center at AU, not at Temple Judea. Second, I walked to services, a first ever, and something I actually enjoyed. Third, the services were held by a former student, not the rabbi I am accustomed to. Fourth, I went to services with a friend and not my family. This was something that really took me off.
As Meg, the former AU student who is in the middle of her cantorial studies program, asked us to open our prayer books to page 17 and let out the first Barchu, I felt chills throughout my body. Chills are not an uncommon thing for me in temple, but these chills were different. It was the chills of knowing that this was not going to be the same.
To my satisfaction the prayers were sung with the melodies I am familiar with, but the voices were different. I didn't hear my mother and her awful attempts at remember the words, my father's persistent ado-noy (not ado-ni), my cantor's desire to out do everyone else's voice in the room, and my aunt's beautiful voice that no matter how far we are from the alter, I can always distinguish from the others. These were voices I found alien.
The rest of the service was short and sweet, to the point. I asked G-d to listen to me, hear my prayers for those who needed it, and remembered those before me. But when the service was over, I felt unsatisfied. It was almost as if I didn't even go. As I looked around at all the faces leaving the center, I realized that I was looking for faces that were 3,000 miles away.
I am second guessing if I want to go back tomorrow, unsure if I can hand another upsetting hour of prayer. But I am more ready now than ever for Yom Kippur and the chance to ask G-d for forgiveness so that those I have wronged can forgive me too.
:: Ring Ring::
"Hello?"
"Hi, Megan?"
"Yes?"
"It's The Devil"
Dead silence, heart beating.
"Hi."
"How are you?"
"I'm sorry, I don't really see why you are calling me."
She called to say she was sober. That she had gone through a lot since the last time we had seen each other. She hit rock bottom, got arrested, went to jail, and then realized what a shit her life was. She put herself through a 30-day rehab program and when she got out, immediately joined a sober living progam and she's been doing that for the past two months and is still in it. She wanted to apologize, say she was sorry for ruining our unique and amazing friendship. That's when my tears began to fall.
"I am amazing now," she told me "My life today is better than it ever was."
She told me about what she was doing when I still knew her and that she couldn't regret it anymore, because that's what they taught her in rehab. She thanked God for giving her a second chance, for giving her this new life. She was counting her blessings. She cried about the things she missed (her sisters graduation) and about the fact that she had fucked up our friendship. But she still preached to me, and that was one thing I always hated. I began to get annoyed.
Why is she calling me?
"I knew my sobriety wouldn't be complete until I talked to you. I am so glad to hear your voice."
The apology was over and I was never going to get what I wanted, the apology I wanted. She asked what I was doing now. I sat up straight, smiled and told her where I am in my life. It felt good to tell her that as much as she took from me, my dreams, she could never take. She was amazed, truly blown away. She thought I was still back in California. She tried to once again interfere with my other friendships, but that satisfaction I cannot give her anymore.
She repeated herself many times, bragging about her life now. I guess it's unfair to say she's bragging, since it is a good thing. But she was. I wanted to get off the phone. I began to sound less interested and slightly distracted, which I was. She got the clue.
"Alright, well I am about to walk into a meeting. Let's get coffee sometime when you're back in town. I want you to see my life now."
"I know, I want to see it too." I lied.
We hung up.
When the Devil comes knocking at your door, you obviously don't answer. But what if the Devil wasn't named "The Devil"?
This past weekend there was a protest in DC. I didn't want to blog about it until I had a chance to read about it and get some facts down. I did & here's what happened & why I am blogging about it.
According to freedomworks.org, September 12th "was a historic day for freedom". Hm... I don't know about historic, as they are also claiming that it was the biggest protest DC has ever seen. This may be true, and I have posted a picture below to see, and I imagine there may have been at least one (wars v. taxes...?) Anyway, these so called Patriots hung out on the mall with signs, tee-shirts, flags... whatever else they could find to let Obama know he needed to learn how to budget.
Well those are the facts in a nut-shell and this is why I am baffled by these people. First off, many of the signs I saw said things such as: "Resistance to tyrants is obedience to God" "God Bless America". See a trend there?? GOD! People, people, people... are we forgetting separation of church and state. Yes, I know there is no such thing in the USA because this is a hypocritical country, but it is the one thing that I really stand by. Any time someone uses God or any religious belief in their debate, I immediately count it their argument as void; they no longer have one. The other signs I saw said things like: "American the FREE". Let me ask a question... if there are no taxes, how will things like public education, police officers, street lamps, roads & etc exist? No one would pay to keep these things going if it wasn't mandatory. Taxes are necessary, yes they suck, but it's the price you pay to be in America. And sorry, but countries in Europe pay way higher taxes than America (i.e. Germany pays 50%). Sweden has the happiest residents in the WORLD. Why? Because of the programs that they have and why do they have them? Cause they pay higher taxes. But the sign that pissed me off the most "tired of paying for the lazy"... Do I even need to say anything more?
Not only did these people waste money and time on signs that were invalid and stupid, but they also took up ALL the space on the Metro. Guh!
Being in DC makes me want to frolick & play all day, everyday. I am in this amazing city filled with so many opportunities to have fun. There's many different areas with their own charm just waiting to be explored. And yet, I have not. I am dying to get out and go see things and have amazing experiences. But what's the fun in exploring if you have to do it alone? Everyone I ask to come along makes an excuse of "that's far" (DC is 10x10 miles & everything is just off the metro & a little walk away), "I'm tired" (We're young, this is our time to not sleep!), "I don't feel like going" (well, F*ck you!). What's the point of being somewhere fun if you're not having fun?
I am not having fun.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)