Also, for any PLL fans reading this, check out this great theory (she called it spot on!):
http://prettytheories.tumblr.com/post/34788137191/ezra-is-a-theory
Showing posts with label Suffering. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Suffering. Show all posts
Saturday, August 31, 2013
#whAt?!
I could blog up and down about my reaction to the latest reveal of Pretty Little Liars, but I think I'll keep it to myself for now. Instead I've decided to post my 2 favorite memes.
Friday, April 12, 2013
I haven't even worn makeup for the last 5 weeks!
Viewer discretion advised?
I think most everyone knows by now that a month ago I had hip surgery to reshape the inside of my right hip socket due to hip impingement. It's a big word that means my femur bone had a sharp spur that was cutting up the labrum (soft tissue) inside my socket, causing much pain and grinding, and it would only get worse with age. So with only two weeks notice I decided to nip it in the bud and just take care of it while I was able to.
The surgery went well with only a few complications and 14 hours later I was headed home to San Diego for rehabilitation at home with my mom and dad. It was the nicest week and a half that I've had in a while, as I was able to catch up on many missed family dinners and conversations, and to be completely honest it was nice to just be a lazy bum for a while; I found this new contraption called Netflix, ever heard of it?
Five days after my surgery I had the misfortune of experiencing dyspnea which meant that I stopped breathing, along with turning blue and numb, my mom called 911, and I got to feel what it's like to hear ambulance sirens and know they are coming to save your life. It was a very strange feeling, not being able to pull any air into my lungs, but all I could think is, "this can't be how I go." And it wasn't; the paramedics were there in minutes and after another trip to the hospital, a few cat scans and blood tests later (and negative), I was able to go home and bum around some more.
The following Saturday I returned to Long Beach and since then have become a professional couch potato. On doctors orders I have to elevate my leg for 18-20 hours a day (basically the whole day) with my trusty ice pack and lots of snacks. I shamefully admit I have become a Netflix addict and have breezed through 2 or 3 shows. Confession: I'm totally addicted to Pretty Little Liars and I can't wait for its return in June! Oh, how will I survive without cable?!
Today I got to go to my first physical therapy appointment (better late than never, eh?) and I will just say it was no walk in the park. I was somewhat scolded for transitioning from crutches to cane a little too hastily, and was also reminded of the fact that I had no simple surgery, but that my condition is very serious and I need to "respect" my hip more than I am. I got stretched out in every direction and tonight I am S-O-R-E. But I think just like anything, in order to overcome I need to go through a little bit of pain, so that I can eventually be strengthened and pain-free.
In my last five years of schooling at CSULB I have driven past this sign nearly every day, so how ironic that I am now patronizing their business.
I think most everyone knows by now that a month ago I had hip surgery to reshape the inside of my right hip socket due to hip impingement. It's a big word that means my femur bone had a sharp spur that was cutting up the labrum (soft tissue) inside my socket, causing much pain and grinding, and it would only get worse with age. So with only two weeks notice I decided to nip it in the bud and just take care of it while I was able to.
Before surgery, all smiles!
Except for IV's. I hate IV's.
The procedure; they go in two separate places in order to get into my socket with a scalpel and a camera.
The damage; said holes and my beautiful new scars I'm rocking for the rest of my life...
Sewing up the labrum inside of my socket
And to finish, they shaved down the head of my femur bone.
The surgery went well with only a few complications and 14 hours later I was headed home to San Diego for rehabilitation at home with my mom and dad. It was the nicest week and a half that I've had in a while, as I was able to catch up on many missed family dinners and conversations, and to be completely honest it was nice to just be a lazy bum for a while; I found this new contraption called Netflix, ever heard of it?
My hunny would come down and visit me in San Diego every once in a while...
Five days after my surgery I had the misfortune of experiencing dyspnea which meant that I stopped breathing, along with turning blue and numb, my mom called 911, and I got to feel what it's like to hear ambulance sirens and know they are coming to save your life. It was a very strange feeling, not being able to pull any air into my lungs, but all I could think is, "this can't be how I go." And it wasn't; the paramedics were there in minutes and after another trip to the hospital, a few cat scans and blood tests later (and negative), I was able to go home and bum around some more.
I also hate narcotic painkillers. They make me scratch my face to death.
The following Saturday I returned to Long Beach and since then have become a professional couch potato. On doctors orders I have to elevate my leg for 18-20 hours a day (basically the whole day) with my trusty ice pack and lots of snacks. I shamefully admit I have become a Netflix addict and have breezed through 2 or 3 shows. Confession: I'm totally addicted to Pretty Little Liars and I can't wait for its return in June! Oh, how will I survive without cable?!
#teamspoby
Today I got to go to my first physical therapy appointment (better late than never, eh?) and I will just say it was no walk in the park. I was somewhat scolded for transitioning from crutches to cane a little too hastily, and was also reminded of the fact that I had no simple surgery, but that my condition is very serious and I need to "respect" my hip more than I am. I got stretched out in every direction and tonight I am S-O-R-E. But I think just like anything, in order to overcome I need to go through a little bit of pain, so that I can eventually be strengthened and pain-free.
Day 7, my first date getting up and around. Little victories.
In my last five years of schooling at CSULB I have driven past this sign nearly every day, so how ironic that I am now patronizing their business.
I would be lying if I said I'm living it up, enjoying being pampered and taken care of while laying in bed all day with nothing to do. I'm actually going stir crazy. Most of my days I wake up and read, or someone comes to visit, or someone is kind enough to take me out on the town, crutches, ice pack and all. James and I even ventured out to IKEA and have now been assembling a few new pieces of furniture. It's kind of cool to receive "special" handicap treatment, getting close parking and getting to ride all of those motor carts at the stores. ;)
I never thought I'd see the day where I would want to be at work more than I want to be at home in bed ...oh wait I still don't see it that way, :P But believe me, I am ready to get back to my routines. I miss my leg. I miss being able to sleep on my side or my stomach, I miss being able to drive and to hurry up and down the apartment stairs. I miss being able to take long showers without the need for a shower chair, and as much as I look cool with my cane, I really miss being able to walk around all day without wincing and having my knee swell up.
My view, all day, every day.
It hasn't all been in vain, however. I am feeling relief from the grinding pain I was having before surgery, which is actually quite pleasant. I'm also enjoying this as time to reflect and do some deep thinking and meditation (I'm not burning incense or anything, but implementing Psalm 1:1-3). I really appreciate the friends and family that have stopped by to bring a meal, or spend an hour or two entertaining me and making me laugh. I have even enjoyed the more holistic and simplified lifestyle I seem to have stumbled into this past month. I feel like a hippy, not wearing makeup, or a bra, or doing anything with my hair more than throwing it in a loose ponytail. I only eat what I can scrounge up from around the fridge and pantry (I can't even check our mailbox, let alone drive to the store) so I've actually found we had a nice collection of veggies stashed away in our crisper. And I haven't had Starbucks in so long! I've resorted to all kinds of teas, but mainly a consistent intake of beautiful h20.
Our super low-key Newlywed Easter.
So it's been quite the journey, and it's not over yet, but I'm excited to continue with therapy and to grow stronger every day. I really hate this asymmetrical leg muscle thing I have going on, so if for no reason other than the fact that it's almost sHoRtS season, I will be sure my leg gets back on track ;)
Oh and I can't forget my number 1 fan, who was kind enough to sit on my hip the day after my surgery, just to remind me how much she loves me...
#vinepost
Thursday, November 4, 2010
My Thoughts on Third World Suffering
About a month ago my geography class watched a documentary on something relating to the blood diamonds of Africa, and the brutality involved. My memory is a little hazy as to how this correlates, but there was a certain part where the hands, arms, and feet of certain children were being chopped off to pay the debt that they or their parents owed to the government. I cringed while watching it and I couldn't watch much, but what's more [sad] is that I couldn't believe it...literally. I mean, I could not fathom the idea that there are places on earth where that is actually happening and is somewhat expected. I walked from class to my car, in comfy clothes, listening to my iPod, and when I got home I cooked myself a nice lunch and then relaxed and went on the computer. That is NORMAL to me. Getting limbs chopped off will never be NORMAL.
I began thinking more and more about this and what I could do, if anything, to prevent it. And I began feeling very helpless, because I know that I alone and can't do anything. And before you stop reading, thinking that this is just one of those blogs where I'm going to rally support and encourage us to do anything collectively about it, I'll tell you, it's not that. I am actually kind of pathetic in the sense that I don't intend this blog to arouse any feeling of activity in anyone, or myself, I'm just trying to display my thoughts on something that upset me. It's rare that I get "upset" like this about stuff, seeing as I'm usually very passive and calm (what an introvert!) and have been desensitized to a lot of hurt in the world.
I think about our culture and how we "view" these things that are happening in other "worlds" and how maybe for the hour that we are sitting in class, we feel sympathetic, or rather, empathetic, but then we walk out the door and forget about it. But really, what more can we do? I am a college student with little to no money to my name. I am not about to go start an activist group, or get on a plane to Kenya, or send money and food to kids there. I have insufficient resources to do anything like that. But maybe there's more?
What bugs me is the ignorance. I myself included, but which I notice also in so many of my peers, have become so ignorant to the suffering of anyone else other than ourselves and the people in our immediate surroundings. Out of sight out of mind? I call it ignorance. Or, selective pathos. I was about to type selective love, but I realize that is an oxy-moron, as love is never selective.
So I've start thinking about it more often.
I start thinking about my good and loving God, and how he has placed everyone where they are and for a reason. And then I say WHY? Why me here, and them there? He has placed me in a middle class family in suburbia, getting basically everything I want. I kind of feel bad about the fact that I live like this when others are born into a lifestyle of suffering, but then I don't because I wasn't in charge of it. How can I feel bad for something I did not have any part in choosing? I think instead I feel blessed. If I feel bad about anything, it's that I don't thank my loving God for blessing me in my circumstance. I am blessed that I wake up in a bed and I am more than well fed, when some kids wake up in a desert forest, hungry, fearing for their life and limbs, daily.
There is nothing that I can do about their circumstance. Sure, I can go on missions trips, or I could donate money when I eventually come into some, but realistically I know that I have to take this as a blessing and just continue praying for the others who have less.
I think that the worst possible way to respond to the blessing I have received, in living the way I do, would be to speak of others' suffering with no sensitivity, or to continue pretending like it does not exist. To make crude jokes, which I have occasionally done, or allow others to do it themselves. Maybe I cannot make a big difference in a flashy, opulent way, but I can pray for them and I can accept my mistreatments without complaining. I guess the whole thing I've got here was just a new perspective. It really makes you see your period cramps in a different way when you know there's a little girl who's not only bleeding out of her uterus but also out of her arm, where her hand used to be.
I began thinking more and more about this and what I could do, if anything, to prevent it. And I began feeling very helpless, because I know that I alone and can't do anything. And before you stop reading, thinking that this is just one of those blogs where I'm going to rally support and encourage us to do anything collectively about it, I'll tell you, it's not that. I am actually kind of pathetic in the sense that I don't intend this blog to arouse any feeling of activity in anyone, or myself, I'm just trying to display my thoughts on something that upset me. It's rare that I get "upset" like this about stuff, seeing as I'm usually very passive and calm (what an introvert!) and have been desensitized to a lot of hurt in the world.
I think about our culture and how we "view" these things that are happening in other "worlds" and how maybe for the hour that we are sitting in class, we feel sympathetic, or rather, empathetic, but then we walk out the door and forget about it. But really, what more can we do? I am a college student with little to no money to my name. I am not about to go start an activist group, or get on a plane to Kenya, or send money and food to kids there. I have insufficient resources to do anything like that. But maybe there's more?
What bugs me is the ignorance. I myself included, but which I notice also in so many of my peers, have become so ignorant to the suffering of anyone else other than ourselves and the people in our immediate surroundings. Out of sight out of mind? I call it ignorance. Or, selective pathos. I was about to type selective love, but I realize that is an oxy-moron, as love is never selective.
So I've start thinking about it more often.
I start thinking about my good and loving God, and how he has placed everyone where they are and for a reason. And then I say WHY? Why me here, and them there? He has placed me in a middle class family in suburbia, getting basically everything I want. I kind of feel bad about the fact that I live like this when others are born into a lifestyle of suffering, but then I don't because I wasn't in charge of it. How can I feel bad for something I did not have any part in choosing? I think instead I feel blessed. If I feel bad about anything, it's that I don't thank my loving God for blessing me in my circumstance. I am blessed that I wake up in a bed and I am more than well fed, when some kids wake up in a desert forest, hungry, fearing for their life and limbs, daily.
There is nothing that I can do about their circumstance. Sure, I can go on missions trips, or I could donate money when I eventually come into some, but realistically I know that I have to take this as a blessing and just continue praying for the others who have less.
I think that the worst possible way to respond to the blessing I have received, in living the way I do, would be to speak of others' suffering with no sensitivity, or to continue pretending like it does not exist. To make crude jokes, which I have occasionally done, or allow others to do it themselves. Maybe I cannot make a big difference in a flashy, opulent way, but I can pray for them and I can accept my mistreatments without complaining. I guess the whole thing I've got here was just a new perspective. It really makes you see your period cramps in a different way when you know there's a little girl who's not only bleeding out of her uterus but also out of her arm, where her hand used to be.
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