Such a pain in the...

I had a hole punched in my eye today. I don't recommend it. I do, however, recommend that doctors make their numbing drops last longer. Much longer.

I went to my lovely retina specialist today - I see him about as often as I see my family - and he was forced to be the bearer of less-than-stellar news. I'm just too healthy. My body likes to heal itself a little too much. The scar tissue is taking over my eye and starting to cover up very important ducts and threatens to move past the iris to the front of my eye.

Talk about your hostile takeover. It's like some green goo-infected now-living thing that is bound and determined to take over all other life around it - the motives behind which are not examined but quickly skipped over in order to get back to the blood, gore, and testosterone-fueled fighting. And believe me, there is plenty of blood - my doctor said so.

Hmmm... if my scar tissue is the equivalent of a science experiment gone wrong, I wonder what would stand in the place of the brave, wholesome, well-meaning (if endearingly-flawed) hero who saves the day in the nick of time without thought of his (or her) own safety?

Yep, now I am making no sense at all.

To combat this evil scar villain, dear Dr. Romreill decided to give my eye a shot. I really do wish I knew what I was getting into when I go see that man. It is all too often an unpleasant surprise. The shot is one that is normally used on patients suffering from macular degeneration (which, coincidently enough, my grandmother has), but which the doctor hopes will stop the bad blood vessels from growing and stop the evil scar monster from getting his (or her) necessary supply of green goo.

All I know is that I dislike having long, sharp objects poked deep into my eye. Even if I cannot see it happening. I also know that you can apparently take way more ibuprofen than the bottle says and still not overdose.

Tune in next time for another exciting account of the devilish deeds of the Creature From the Inner Eye! Watch the mayhem that it lets loose on unsuspecting Cornea and Iris, two innocent, bookish, and pretty citizens of Craniumetropolis! Will a hero arise to combat this evil menance? Will he (or she) survive the encounter? We can only watch and pray that it is so...

Kiddles and bits

Time to update on my life, especially since that decidedly gloomy post has been sitting at the top for far too long.

I have been working as an EFY counselor for the third summer in a row, and I absolutely love it. The youth get better and better every year. They are so hungry for doctrine and so want to do good - they just need to know what that is. There have been several times when I have felt the sweet, calm assurance that I am where I need to be, when I need to be there, doing what I need to be doing and that the Lord is pleased with my offering. My testimony and my reliance on and confidence in my Savior has grown and grown.

Every week counselors are chosen to be on panels to answer questions the youth have submitted, and I have had several opportunities to be on them. Sometimes I do fine and use the scriptures and True to the Faith and competently answer the questions, but there have been a few occasions when I got a question and knew I was meant to answer this. When that happens, my mind becomes clear, my thoughts and words flow together, and I feel the Spirit confirming what I say. These moments are ones to be cherished and remembered as I am blessed as I bless others by teaching the doctrines of the kingdom in such a way as to benefit others.

***

My eye has remained sightless. It is also now green and slightly more dilated than my other. I am getting used to when my youth ask if I have different colors of eyes. Yes, I reply calmly, yes I do. I am taking drops 4 times a day to keep the pressure up so it doesn't shrink and shrivel up. Lovely, I know.

I am becoming resigned and used to the blackness, and I have resolved to just move on with my life and live as normally as possible and do all that I want to do. I find that my soccer skills are much the same as they've always been, but ultimate frisbee is still a little scary when I'm running around with my eye on the disk and unsure of who is around me. The good news is that I believe my brain is learning to adjust to the one eye, so I don't think my depth perception is as messed up as it used to be. I still hate parallel parking, though.

***

I am on break this week and enjoying being home. I forget how beautiful this place is. It's funny, I really don't live in Rexburg anymore, but deep down it still is my home. The trees, the ponds and rivers and marshlands, the animals, my dad's garden, the old trucks rumbling down the highway... I love it.

Last night as the sun was setting Caitlyn and I went for a bike ride through the countryside. It was delicious - there really is no other word for it. The bugs I got in my mouth, however, were not. Caitlyn also taught me how to ride without using my hands! This is a skill I have been coveting since I was 7 years old and would see Aislin flying up and down Maple Drive with her hands resting calmly in her lap. It was a revelation. I totally did the whole Meg Ryan, City of Angels thing - minus getting hit by a car and killed. I can't believe it has taken me this long to learn. I will show this off for the rest of my life. I am so cool.

I am, however, a little rusty on bike riding, and I was on my dad's bike.... Let's just say my tush isn't very happy today and may complain about a repeat performance tonight.

There may be lots of world, but I'll only ever see half of it.

As most of you know, I have been having issues with my left eye for awhile now. Several years ago, my retina started to pull away from the back of my eye, and fluid started to fill in behind it. This was a problem. My vision became blurry and distorted. Because of this I have gone through several laser procedures, two full-out surgeries, cataracts, several black eyes, sleepless nights, 10 bottles of different eye medications, long periods of inactivity, reduced depth perception, and several misunderstandings with people when I can't see them on my left-hand side.

The latest surgery was at the end of April and was scheduled rather quickly when it was discovered that my whole lens had gone opaque over the course of a weekend - rather than seeing very little out of that eye, I just saw white milkiness. They removed the bad lens and the silicone gel that had been inside of my eye for over a year to keep my retina more or less in place. I have been home this last month recovering and trying to stay as idle as possible so as to not bump or jar anything in my eye. It has been pretty boring at times, very nice at relaxing at others.

Today I had my latest appointment with my eye doctor. The news was not good. He had been very optimistic after this surgery, but slightly less so each time I have gone back. Today was straight up realism with no spoonful of sugar to help it go down. My retina has torn once again. It will most likely never heal. I will never see out of my eye again. I can move and do whatever I want now because there is nothing anyone can do about it. If he tries to go in once again, he could kill the eye.

If I was older, it would have been easier to fix. But since I am a young, healthy individual with an excellent immune system, my body likes to heal itself. And heal vigorously. That means scar tissue. Every time my doctor has tried to go in and help my eye, scar tissue has built up and pulled on the retina and gunked up all sorts of things. If I was older or had a weak immune system, the scarring would have been minimal and I would probably be able to see right now. Kind of ironic - the things about my body I have always been thankful for and allowed me to keep any schedule I wanted are now a big problem.

This hurts.

I hate admitting failure.

I hate feeling powerless, feeling like I can't act, only be acted upon.

I hate knowing that I'm going to be like this the rest of my life.

I usually try and forget about this problem and move on with my life, but now I have to accept that I will forever run into people on a crowded walkway, I will forever be scared when backing up a car, I will never be able to play frisbee or soccer like I used to be able to. I will forever be on my guard waiting for something bad to happen to my other eye which could render me completely blind.

Someday I'll get a brighter perspective and be ready to rise above my challenges. One day I'll feel less overwhelmed and regain my I-can-do-anything attitude. But not today. Today is a grim reminder of my frail mortality, a reminder that no, contrary to my usual belief, I am not superhuman. And, oh, how it hurts.

You know you're a grown up when...

Last night I made myself some stir fry for dinner. It had three different types of vegetables in it. That I chopped up and willingly put in. And way more vegetables than meat. I even made an effort to grab extra vegetables when I was dishing myself up. This never used to happen. When I was little, I always used to make sure to get tons of meat and barely enough vegetables so my mom wouldn't dish me up more. Who knew life could change so fast.

Overheard at BYU

The other day I was taking a break from studying and was eating a sandwich outside on a bench. It was wonderful. The weather, not the sandwich. The sandwich was merely good. About 15 feet away from me, a guy and girl were chilling on the steps. As I was mid bite, I heard the girl say this:

"I mean, they asked me what my interests are. I have no idea what my interests are! That's why I hate filling out forms like that. What are my interests? I don't know. What do they want me to say? Candy. I'm interested in candy. And eating. KFC, chicken burritos, those are my interests. What are my hobbies? Ha, I don't know."

Now the girl was eating a burrito at the time, but I don't know if it was chicken. I also don't know what the boy was thinking - he could have been enthralled with this speech or bored out of his mind for all I know. But I DO know what I was thinking. I almost choked on my sandwich. And it wasn't chicken. It was turkey.

Are you kidding me?!?! You have no pursuits? No passions? No interests? Nothing that gets you excited and makes you feel alive? Nothing with which you connect with society and with this world? Honestly?! Nothing that gets the gears in your head moving? That makes your heart start beating faster? Nothing that brings little gasps of joy or pleasure when you happen upon it? Nothing that makes you stay up really late or get up really early in the morning? No goals? Dreams? Aspirations? Are you so alienated and disconnect from life around you as all that?

It baffled me. It made me angry and belligerent. It made me sad.

It seems like the longer I am alive, the more things I find to interest me. The more things I have to stop in wonder over. I almost have too many passions, and it gets hard to manage all of them. Life constantly blows my mind with the variety, the possibilities, the scope for imagination out there. She is interested in none of it?! Well, besides chicken (Chicken?! The blandest of all meat?!). I wanted to grab her by the arm and drag her around and open her eyes to everything this world has to offer.

Later, I was walking to go take a final and a little boy in a stroller roared like a lion at me. His dad pushing him didn't notice, but I almost roared back. I think I fell in love. I walked to class with the lightest heart and the biggest grin and a sincere hope that there will forever be little boys in the world who will roar at girls passing on the sidewalk.

The Follow-up Check-up

Well, folks, I did it. I wrote my paper. All 19 pages plus title page plus two pages of bibliography. Not bad for one night's work. I should say one night and one morning's work since I finished at 8 am. (Funny story about the custodian coming in at 4:30 in the morning. I sure surprised him.) Yep, I hit save, went and put up my poster for the Mary Lou Fulton Poster Competition, went home and showered, ate some Cheerios, and went to class.

Still without sleeping.

And I felt oddly well rested. Which concerned me. But the universe righted itself when I fell asleep in class. Afterward I went back to the ballroom where all of the posters were hanging, ran into my friend Kristen, bummed around with the other cool anthro majors, got free delicious lunch and free delicious chocolate cake, and WON the competition in my department. Surprise.

I of course ditched out before the luncheon was over to go to class and turn in that thrice-blasted paper, so I have no idea where to pick up my winnings. And I fell asleep in class again so it wasn't really worth it. And I forgot to take down my poster. Oops. I hope they saved it. It was pretty.

See? Pretty.

I came home after class and called my family because my sister had her baby! His name is Will. He is bright pink. I love him.

And then I slept. And slept. Finally. Until 7:30. I'm going to go back right now. Yes.

On Beyond Zebra

While being the title of a beloved Dr. Seuss book, it is also an appropriate expression of how I feel right now. I have moved beyond the library.

I am currently sitting locked in my TA office on the first floor of the SWKT. Alone. The rest of the building is abandoned, unless there is some professor experiencing marital problems and is sleeping on the couch in his office. So many professors have couches...

But I digress. Anyway, I am here because I can stay here longer than I can in the library. The library closes at 2 during the week before finals. I need longer than 2. I've needed longer than 2 for the past month. I hit upon this brilliant strategy today. All I needed to do was close the blinds, close the door, and hole myself up before the building closed at 10. The plan went off with nary a hitch. I even had time to stop at the vending machines to grab sustenance to sustain this all-night writing marathon. I eat way too many of my meals from vending machines these days...

And it is going to be a marathon. I have a 15 page paper due tomorrow at 1:30 for my International Organizations class. I'm writing an constructivist analysis of how the globe has organized itself to combat female genital mutilation. I would. It's not the happiest topic ever, but it is interesting. And you can tell I'm an anthropologist by it. No Poli Sci major would write this.

Anyway, I had better get back to work. I have miles to go before I sleep. If I sleep. I've never pulled a true all-nighter so this could be interesting. I have to attend a poster competition in the morning since I submitted an entry so I may just fall asleep on the floor, go put up my poster, and then go home and shower for the day.

I wish I had a couch.