tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-43798579198905840382023-11-16T03:40:19.180-08:00Love in the Time of TransplantJewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.comBlogger239125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-37554525465756981452017-05-09T07:00:00.000-07:002017-05-09T19:07:22.878-07:00When the Scars Fade<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I lay in bed the other night alone. The covers were off and the ceiling fan was whirling around. It was a pretty warm, inside the house and outside. And I lay there, watching the fan and not sleeping, because Ben was downstairs watching the NFL draft, and also I couldn't allow myself to fall asleep because I hadn't yet taken my immunosuppressants. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I decided to run my hands over my skin. My arms mostly and then my stomach. Sometimes I like to feel places on my abdomen where surgeons have cut me, and I smooth my fingers over each area, pressing into the tissue. I like to see how deep the indents are, if there are any. Just about all of the "gunshot wounds," as Ben calls them, are now are identified by raised lines of lighter than <i>my</i> normal skin--the kind of skin that forms when you cut yourself and the body tries to heal. This is called scar tissue, and it's what they say most of my kidneys were covered with by the time they both failed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Much lower on the right side of my abdomen, getting closer and closer to--yes--my pubic bone is the six-inch scar where my transplant surgeon cut me and inserted my dad's kidney. The strange thing is that I almost hesitate to call it a scar anymore. The line where the incision occurred is so thin, so light and so faded that it's pretty difficult to see it. I feel like someone would have to put their eyeballs really close to my stomach to see that there's a piece of skin that just isn't like the rest that's unbroken around it. The other scars from other surgeries--my appendix, dialysis and the removal of my ovary--are pretty clear. This one though, my transplant scar...even I am surprised by how much it's changed over the past <b>four </b>years. Yep, f</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">our years ago, my surgeon sliced through my skin, muscle, fat and other tissue and put in a new kidney. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">I've been struggling lately to cope with my health lately and the fact that I HAD to have a kidney transplant to be OK. I couldn't be like everyone else and just avoid doing this and keep living a normal life. I had to have a transplant. There wasn't really a way around it. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The experience of kidney disease, kidney failure, the transplant and even some of the related events that followed (CMV, rejection, no immune system, miscarriage and so on and so forth), was so traumatizing. Emotional marks were made. </span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">But four years later the outward physical evidence of that period in my life is starting to disappear. T</span><span style="font-family: arial, helvetica, sans-serif;">he area where the surgery actually took place is mostly healed. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've been wondering lately if it's time for the rest of me to become "mostly healed," too. </span></div>
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-71450992389095605722017-04-10T00:00:00.000-07:002017-04-28T17:26:57.015-07:00The Last Trail: In Pursuit of Eagles and Silence<blockquote class="tr_bq">
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The last trail trek Ben and I explored was in February, on one of those unseasonably warm days when you think, "Yeah, we all gon' die from climate change." There's a state park near us called <a href="http://www.dcr.virginia.gov/state-parks/mason-neck#general_information">Mason Neck</a> where you can walk along the shoreline of the Potomac River and take in some really amazing views. The wooded portion of the park has become renown for its bird-watching. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm not a bird-watcher. In fact, many birds terrify me, and not just because of Alfred Hitchcock's ability to turn this species into creatures who would jump at the chance to blot out the whites of every human eyeball. Last year, whenever I'd take Burton out onto our back deck to listen to the morning birdsong in trees behind our yard, BLUE JAYS and some bird with an orange stomach would dive-bomb us every time. I like my birds to be a little less aggressive. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Fortunately, during our short walk from the Potomac River shore at Mason Neck park to an area where several bald eagle's nests are hidden a little deeper in the trees, we never had to cower from crew of birds crouching on phone lines, or protect our eyeballs from some angry (birds? lol) blue jay. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now, I'm a loud talker. I've been told to be quiet or keep my voice down by at least 10 people throughout my life. I'm just not soft-spoken and I don't have a good internal Decibel reader. And on every hike, and even camping trip, I get so excited about...THINGS...the things of life and being with my favorite people in nature...that sometimes I yell-talk. But that's not exactly recommended when you're in a bird watching environment like Mason Neck.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The end of our trail brought us to what looked like an open air hut, used for sitting, watching and waiting for sight of a cruising bald eagle, or something else. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In the middle of my yell-talking about work or what I wanted to accomplish while 30, Ben had to tell me to cool it because there were actually signs everywhere asking for quiet. There was even another man near the bird blind taking professional photos of smaller birds flying out over the creek just beyond the bird blind. So, out of mostly embarrassment, I immediately shut up, and gave the photog a sticky closed mouth "Sorryscusemeeee" smile.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I climbed the bird blind to sit next to Ben and look out over the water, wishing I could have at least finished my yell-talking because I was in the middle of a sentence. But then something happened. I noticed that where we were was incredibly quiet and incredibly peaceful.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I recently saw this movie with a friend: <a href="http://www.pursuitofsilence.com/">In Pursuit of Silence</a>. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It was <i>really good </i>and provoked all the thoughts about noise, nature, when it's a good time to be silent (in the "biting your tongue" sense) and when it's a good time experience silence. The moral of the story: We should experience silence as often as we can.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've written on here about my love of meditation, but to be honest, I haven't been practicing it as much as I should. And I do feel, because of my inconsistencies in this area, I've lost my connection so a peace I once had. The past few months have really wrecked me emotionally, and that's why I haven't been writing as often. But two weeks ago, I made a decision to spend more time in silence and being silent. No phone, no headphones, no books. Just me, and my thoughts. Usually some background noise coming from somewhere but that's to be expected. And what's happened: I've cried, a lot, and I've become inspired again. Inspired to write and to continue exploring this world, life and routine of living with a chronic illness and learning to be OK with it. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-76548190513907185942017-03-10T03:00:00.000-08:002017-04-28T17:26:33.926-07:00The Hamilton Post I've Been Waiting For<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Something awesome happened recently.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ben and I went to see <a href="http://www.hamiltonbroadway.com/">HAMILTON</a>!!!!!</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">LOL I know right? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Who? What? When? How the f$&^ did I get....little ol' I...get tickets to HAMILTON? Well friends, my journey to Hamilton started about eight months ago. I had just gotten home from work and was vacuuming the living room. I think we were preparing to have guests over or something. That explains why I immediately dove into VACUUMING of all things, on a Friday afternoon...after WORK. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Anyway, I was vacuuming when I decided to check my phone to see if I <strike>anybody loves me</strike> anyone had texted or called, because the vacuum and the music I had on were both pretty loud. I had neither a text nor a phone call. What I did have was an email from one of my friends, who is probably even more of a Hamilton-head than I am. The email read that the next presale event for Hamilton NYC tickets was starting...10 minutes before I got the email. Yes, you read that right. When I finally opened up and read the email, the presale event had already STARTED. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I tried not to hyperventilate and I dropped the vacuum. It was still running and proceeded to open up about 13 tabs of Chrome on my laptop with the presale link typed into the address bar. You see, regularly priced Hamilton tickets--of the $100 or $200 variety--sell out at warp speed when they go on sell to the public. Based on that, buying my tickets through a presale event was my only real chance at getting Hamilton tickets that weren't $5,000 each, and my only chance at getting Hamilton tickets at all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So I frantically clicked on every day of the Hamilton performance calendar for January and February only to come to screens that took too long to load or days where there were no more open seats. Once, I found two seats and started the process for filling out my billing information only to have the seats sold right out from under me. It was craziness. I felt myself sweating and getting dizzy and almost decided to give up on getting these tickets when I decided to try clicking on dates in March, just to see what was available. Going in March--this month--wasn't ideal because at the time I bought the tickets, March was so far away. Who waits a year to see Hamilton? A lot of people actually. A whole lot of people.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thinking that I would never get tickets, I clicked on a random day in March and two tiny side-by-side blue bubbles revealed themselves on the Ticket Master map of the theater. Two open seats. Two open seats. I clicked on them. I was taken to a page to put in my billing information. And then I was taken to a page that said "You're going to see Hamilton NY!" And then I screamed. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">AND THEN I waited about eight months until finally, FINALLY the day arrived. Ben and I took the bus from our house to New York City.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Staying in New York City is expennnssssiiiive. But I used Amex Travel and got a really good deal to stay at <a href="http://www.kimberlyhotel.com/">The Kimberly Hotel</a>. Ben really wanted New York pizza once we arrived so we went to get that, about 2.5 hours before our reservation at an Italian restaurant near the theater LOL This part of the itinerary makes no damn sense, I know.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Once dinner was over, we walked to the theater and all that was left to do was find our seats and watch Hamilton!</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This last picture was taken before the show. But we were both still smiling from ear to ear and couldn't stop talking about "how lucky we are to be alive right now" well after the final bows.</span></div>
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-53302341443158152832017-02-28T00:00:00.000-08:002017-03-10T13:46:47.009-08:00Chronically Expecting Something<br />
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<span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">“Peace begins </span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;">when expectation ends.”</span><span style="background-color: white; color: #181818; font-family: "merriweather" , "georgia" , serif; font-size: 14px;"> </span>― <a class="authorOrTitle" href="http://www.goodreads.com/author/show/5107659.Sri_Chinmoy" style="color: #333333; font-family: Lato, "Helvetica Neue", Helvetica, sans-serif; font-weight: bold; text-decoration: none;">Sri Chinmoy</a></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I received some not great news on my birthday. Or maybe a more accurate description of what came to pass is that I had an expectation of what I wanted to hear from my kidney transplant nurse, and that's not what I heard.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've been doing some blood work and tests since the end of 2016 with the goal of being cleared to get a baby in my belly at some point in the future. My blood work isn't great. My creatinine is above 2 now (the last reading was 2.6). That last pregnancy really rocked my health world. Things most likely won't go back to the way they were, when I was "healed" or whatever the hell that was, unless I have another kidney transplant. So it seems like this is as good as it gets. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>***And a bit of clarification: when I say get the "clear" to become pregnant, I'm never going to have a doctor tell me, "Yes, my child you should carry a baby in your state of three kidneys, one working." Girl, please. I am not a healthy person. Mostly what I'm looking for is, "Welp, your kidneys aren't failing right now, so Godspeed."***</i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So on my birthday, my transplant nurse called to let me know that they'd received my blood work and that everything is fine. There's nothing to be alarmed about, buuuuut they want me to get another opinion from my other group of nephrologists before proceeding with a biopsy that will THEN determine what I can do next.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was pretty upset with this news. I wanted my transplant nurse to tell me I could change up some of my medicines now to prepare for becoming pregnant at some point down the road. But I'm confronted with more tasks and more time spent thinking, wondering, questioning the road that I'm on. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A few days after turning 30 I reflected on when I was a little girl who truly believed that I would be living in a Barbie world --and not by 30, by 25. And I thought to myself, "So this is my life." This is the life of a woman who can't get pregnant whenever she wants to. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Where will I end up? </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I know this post makes me sound ungrateful for turning 30 and living another year and that I probably should be just focusing on what I got instead of what I don't got. I'm grateful for a hell of a lot of things and people in my life. But that doesn't mean I don't wonder, what if sometimes. I probably shouldn't be a role model for anyone, because I'm not at a point where I feel like I would do all of this again if I had to because my experiences have "made me who I am." F&*k that. I had hopes and expectations for my life just like any normal person. I get to mourn the death of those dreams.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">For me, living with a chronic illness is in part living a life of expectation. Expecting a call from the doctor; expecting good news; expecting my labs to go well; expecting my labs to suck; expecting to have a successful pregnancy; expecting everything to go wrong again. Expecting my kidney to last and expecting it to fail. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm hoping that in the next 30 years, I can truly let go of how I hoped my life to turn out and really embrace the way it is without losing the tiniest bit of faith I have in receiving good news from time to time.</span></div>
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-30704841296555840602017-02-20T00:00:00.000-08:002017-02-27T20:48:06.451-08:00News About Health<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So, what I said in my first post of the year is true. I got a new job! I got a brand new job at a brand new company. For the past six months, I've been working for the <a href="http://www.apa.org/index.aspx">American Psychological Association</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That's their logo. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I can't remember if I told you this but I studied journalism in college, became a journalist after graduating college and worked in that field until last September. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I know it sounds like I had it all figured out, but not really. For a decent part of my childhood I wanted my occupation to be "Barbie." Then I changed my mind and decided I wanted to be an astronaut instead. But that was never going to work because I only have a MILD interest in space and studying it and traveling to it. I'm more interested in dressing the part than being the part.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Also, I'm terrible at math. But that's only because I'm so much better at writing. So pretty quickly, sometime around fourth or fifth grade, I decided I wanted to be a writer. What kind of writer? For writers there are lots of jobs and no jobs at all, but I settled on <i>journalist</i> after discovering CNN and Christiane Amanpour. And I think because I was so young when I started watching 24-hour news I was more fascinated with the pronunciation and spelling of her name than her news reporting. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">While working as a journalist, I reported on the financial crisis, immigration and labor. But after living with kidney disease for so long, and then starting this blog I started to wonder about a career that might be more suitable to my interests and my experiences.</span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I love talking about health and living with a chronic illness. I also enjoy helping people, which I was sort of doing as a reporter...you know, by giving them the download on the what's happening in their "neck of the woods," or industry. But it wasn't the same. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My current company is actively engaged in advocating for and advancing the issues that I also think are important. I feel really honored to get to be a part of that. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you've been reading the news lately, you'd see that one item that has been and will continue to be a huge focus is health insurance, and everyone's access to it. And you know having health insurance is something I'm all about since I'm a sick person. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So this next year could be big for us, sick people and not sick people alike. A lot could change in the realm of health care, and my goal is to play a small role in keeping you up to date on the situation--not on behalf of APA, but because I think now is the time to be more informed than ever. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Here's an article that I think does a good job of breaking down what's happening with health care policy right now:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.consumerreports.org/healthcare-reform/repair-replace-repeal-whats-really-happening-with-the-aca/">Repair, Replace, Repeal: What's Really Happening With the ACA</a></span><br />
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-44583868520137997872017-02-14T00:00:00.000-08:002017-02-27T20:47:23.567-08:00[Insert Adjective That Rhymes With] Thirty<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">You're not the same woman you were a decade ago. If you're lucky, you're not the same woman you were last year. The whole point of aging, as I see it, is change. If we let them, our experiences can keep teaching us about ourselves.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;">--Oprah--</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>I'm 30 today!</b> Leaving one decade behind. Entering another. I started putting together a mostly-wordy post about what I've learned in not only the past 10 years, but the past 30. Ambitious, right? And also BORING. You don't care what I've learned! I barely even care what I've learned because I know that all the theories I have about how to do life right and how to love people will continue to be debunked for as long as I'm alive. What's more exciting than a list of lessons is looking back at some of my favorite memories over the past decade! A trillion warm and smiley feelings filled my heart putting together these collages of photos showing some of my favorite experiences in life thus far. My 20s were: curious, eye-opening, <b>FUN</b>, care-free (at least more care-free than this very moment), sometimes confusing and sad, filled with a lot of self-doubt and naturally a lot of self-discovery. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>COLLEGE</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our first inauguration! </span></div>
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<span style="font-size: large;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My roommates. We had some GREAT times living in D.C</span>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>Then some of us got married...</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Including me...<a href="http://www.loveinthetimeoftransplant.com/p/our-wedding.html">remember</a>?</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>In my 20s, I started traveling without my family, a lot.</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Ben's and my trip to Maui was our very first vacation together alone! </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;">Our trip to <a href="http://www.loveinthetimeoftransplant.com/search/label/Honeymoon%20Time!">Greece </a>was our first European vacation together alone. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>And as of today, my 30th birthday, Ben and I have been together for 11 years and 8 months!!</i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><b><i>And as of today, my 30th birthday, I'll have been a big sister for 24 years and a daughter for....30 years. </i></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial";"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b>OK now for a short list of things I would tell my 20 year-old-self</b>, <b>or in this case, my youngest sister Danyelle because she actually listens to me:</b></span></span><br />
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-62b022b0-3575-af98-6b47-ef2b48931604"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="http://www.loveinthetimeoftransplant.com/2016/08/five-years-max.html">You don’t have to be healthy to be happy</a>. </span></span><br />
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-62b022b0-3576-615b-909f-5a7f38fa3098"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Never trust someone who thinks they’re too good to eat at McDonalds sometimes.</span></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span id="docs-internal-guid-62b022b0-3576-a086-a12e-4e1fd84ffd0e"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">And never trust ANYONE who thinks having a piece of dark chocolate for dessert is actually BETTER than eating a bowl of ice cream.</span></span><br />
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-62b022b0-3577-6c67-ae5f-d5574eac2201"><span style="font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You've always wanted a lot of friends, you are too introverted and need too much alone time to be refreshed. So you will NEVER be the type of person who wants to be around people all the damn time. </span></span><br />
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-62b022b0-3577-a7ac-8ce5-8638d37626fd"></span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You will find a job you love, so much. But you will still look forward to weekends, holidays and vacations. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You're a liberal! And that's OK. You're pro-choice and you also think everyone should have health insurance, and it should be free or cheap. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">You don’t have to believe everything that someone says about you, positive or negative. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="color: red;">A little bit of recklessness keeps life fun. </span></b></span></div>
Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-35678025027998188032017-02-10T00:00:00.000-08:002017-02-14T11:44:06.177-08:00Ring in the New Year<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I got to be a part of something super cool on Jan. 1: the engagement of one of my very best friends! </span></div>
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<a name='more'></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Isata is getting married, y’all. You may remember her from </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">my </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">wedding. She was a bridesmaid.</span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitiRZEINbspISMBtug7hXEt1_AbLgIXN-5_fatPMGUjg5FzhZrmXJ6PEpYfZnjFhwoJlv7qjuxaJO1cYFaIm3Gcok_Hxmf5E3gQSBVPvF9b7sGoTrZcEaO-s99lCh8Is4vGModDihvUr7l/s1600/Vicki+Grafton+Photography+Digtial-021.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEitiRZEINbspISMBtug7hXEt1_AbLgIXN-5_fatPMGUjg5FzhZrmXJ6PEpYfZnjFhwoJlv7qjuxaJO1cYFaIm3Gcok_Hxmf5E3gQSBVPvF9b7sGoTrZcEaO-s99lCh8Is4vGModDihvUr7l/s640/Vicki+Grafton+Photography+Digtial-021.jpg" width="426" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Isata, our friend Sajia and me have all been bestest buddies since high school. Both of them are in the medical field (a cardiologist and a dentist). I was too dense to ever learn how to do subtraction in my head correctly, so I became a writer. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Isata’s and Sajia’s parents also immigrated to the U.S. from Sierra Leone and Bangladesh. Meanwhile, I was born in Holland, but my parent’s U.S. citizenship basically made me an American so yeah, I’m still the odd one out there.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But when it comes to finding the love of your life and both agreeing to honor and cherish each other “forever and ever amen” I’m beyond ecstatic that Isata is joining the club. I told her now, she can be one of the “smug marrieds” like Sajia and me. </span></div>
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<a href="http://images.nymag.com/images/news/05/04/intel/promarriage050404_400.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://images.nymag.com/images/news/05/04/intel/promarriage050404_400.jpg" height="416" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">There’s no real purpose behind this post. I love my friends but it it’s not like I’ll be documenting Isata’s wedding on my blog in the same way that I gave you all every detail of mine. The most I can hope to share in the future is what’s going into planning her bachelorette party. And we all know that takes little to no time to plan. Needs: alcohol, VERY LOUD RAUNCHY AND INAPPROPRIATE MUSIC, the same freakum dresses that we wore when we were 22, a hotel room and someone’s SnapChat profile. </span></div>
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<a href="http://www.director-file-two.com/williams/images/beyonce4d.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" src="http://www.director-file-two.com/williams/images/beyonce4d.png" height="360" width="640" /></a></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Being at Isata’s engagement with my best friends and our best men at the start of the year was just more evidence of how f*&king lucky I am to just always have such great people around me, beside me and behind me. Isata and Sajia knew me when I didn’t have kidney disease. Not many people in my life can say that. I’ve been best friends with them for just a little more than half my life. And for an Army brat, that’s saying something. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m turning 30 next week, and call me a late bloomer but I’m finally realizing just how special it is that we’re all still in this together-- “this” being friendship--after all almost two decades, and all the sharp turns and curves of life. When we lose someone we love, when we get engaged, when one of us needs an organ transplant, or when we need to be wheel-chaired to our hotel rooms after drinking too much. I have been their witnesses and they have been mine. I couldn’t have chosen a better pair.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span id="docs-internal-guid-9ba9177f-208a-1dd2-89c2-a5f9c469bbf6"></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 11pt; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Also, Isata is the only person I can call when one of my family members throws up multiple times then poops on themselves, and we all wonder if they’re dying or just ate a batch of mozzarella sticks in a suspicious looking bar. </span></div>
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-37403996316865975092017-02-07T06:00:00.000-08:002017-02-07T06:00:22.579-08:00Needing Nature<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">My job is awesome because it offers basically FREE onsite fitness classes to all the employees. “Basically FREE” means that each class costs one dollar. And that dollar doesn’t actually go toward paying the instructors. It goes into a glass box filled with other dollars. And those dollars are raffled off at the end of the month to the employee who essentially attended the most fitness classes. The location of the classes and the idea that someone might PAY ME to get in shape pretty much eliminated most of my excuses for refusing to exercise--money, distance to the class, time. So now, I’m back to doing yoga! Yay. And just because these classes are free and at work does not mean that my yoga teacher isn’t legit. We’re working on headstands, OK?!</span></div>
<b id="docs-internal-guid-48a580fc-e5f3-6880-a27f-d0cb2f3b5932" style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of the things I learned about myself during the meditation part of class is that when the teacher tells us to “imagine our paradise” or whatever, I always see myself walking through nature with Ben. Our hikes and trips to National Parks and overseas parks are some of my favorite memories. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfLvG0BolPXfyOl4rSYYhI2cy7PJvPqzwTIuwHWn9WYEH9O7bjAKDMzw6C7ZpmxfhbgaYnh1d__4ekftjZW9NOvRU-ChxfytNMU1cDh18DJ5tWBkrbM1yRIM-0jXLHyOxX3k8g_K-YYGU/s1600/045.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhFfLvG0BolPXfyOl4rSYYhI2cy7PJvPqzwTIuwHWn9WYEH9O7bjAKDMzw6C7ZpmxfhbgaYnh1d__4ekftjZW9NOvRU-ChxfytNMU1cDh18DJ5tWBkrbM1yRIM-0jXLHyOxX3k8g_K-YYGU/s640/045.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">On a hike through Glacier National Park</td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br />
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<b style="font-weight: normal;"><br /></b><span id="docs-internal-guid-48a580fc-e5f4-07e4-3e8a-d0fd84a8659e"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Everybody needs beauty as well as bread, places to play in and pray in, where nature may heal and give strength to body and soul alike. </span></b></span></span></blockquote>
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<span id="docs-internal-guid-48a580fc-e5f4-07e4-3e8a-d0fd84a8659e"><span style="background-color: white; color: #333333; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><b><span style="font-family: "helvetica neue" , "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">--John Muir</span></b></span></span></blockquote>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I love hiking so much and being surrounded by trees and fresh air. I realized that I should actually make an effort to do this more often. Not only do Ben and I have the BEST talks on these hikes, but I come up with new ideas, I make lists, I can--sometimes--experience God. I sometimes think about my kidney, or money, or whatever is stressing me out. I write blog posts in my head. I plan parties. I plan meals. And sometimes I just walk and marvel at how the wild continues to just be </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">wild</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> and exist without me doing, saying or thinking anything. Sometimes I feel like my body and all its weaknesses are healed for a moment while I’m hiking. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So this year I want to hike some kind of trail more often. The plan is to write about all of my treks right here on this blog, every month….hopefully. And yes, there will be more <a href="http://www.pbs.org/nationalparks/people/historical/muir/">John Muir</a> quotes because he's all kinds of amazing and inspiring. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrazi5jBCUKZ0R5Wwza3XOiUJXVx1AuSVNqBO-8KXhT7Lf0-901bBHm0Rs5bjNAaEEwTAm4lhve16lTynEa-HdjAzsliTHhQtXSD3pGCLgHtBMn6vKtzUCTp8vKr0lqMpVrMyvHLOY9tw8/s1600/0115171507.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjrazi5jBCUKZ0R5Wwza3XOiUJXVx1AuSVNqBO-8KXhT7Lf0-901bBHm0Rs5bjNAaEEwTAm4lhve16lTynEa-HdjAzsliTHhQtXSD3pGCLgHtBMn6vKtzUCTp8vKr0lqMpVrMyvHLOY9tw8/s640/0115171507.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was sick for about three weeks from Dec. 27 until the middle of January. So my first "hike" of the year ended up being more of a five mile walk along the Virginia Capital Trail. It was aight.</span></td></tr>
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-80819398449989374152017-02-01T06:00:00.000-08:002017-02-01T08:39:21.064-08:00A Good Year<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I have to make a selfish statement: 2016 was not a bad year, for me. I say “selfish” because I wasn’t that happy to see it end, like so many others seemed to be. I was honestly a little sad. My 2016 started and ended with a great bottle of champagne and a little party with my very best friends in life. The year started and ending about the same actually, but fortunately, there were a few differences. </span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRR3R35e-wiDwKU27blhsVDitOoBswNQdX56r71060oehgqfzCK27HV6X7Inqjy_rrMrkoPj1G0bcUTDTAADNfws8tEinfQwU6L7okW_ybrO98k1VuchJvEfVIUmZ-9lxsDKyigAl4grdD/s1600/0101160005.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="360" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiRR3R35e-wiDwKU27blhsVDitOoBswNQdX56r71060oehgqfzCK27HV6X7Inqjy_rrMrkoPj1G0bcUTDTAADNfws8tEinfQwU6L7okW_ybrO98k1VuchJvEfVIUmZ-9lxsDKyigAl4grdD/s640/0101160005.jpg" width="640" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">First Day of 2016</span></td></tr>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I started 2016 reeling from my miscarriage and recovering the sanity I lost from having arguments with my insurance company over not being covered for some services, thanks to some "coordination of benefits" bullshit.</span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I started 2016 with one ovary on my left side. And surprisingly and thankfully, this ovary did not have a very large cyst just hanging out on top, plotting to twist the life out of it so it could join it's sister, "Right Side Ovary" in the grave of dead organs. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I started 2016 in a job that was no longer bringing me joy, some days feeling undervalued and just plain bored. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">At the beginning of 2016 I was given instructions to hold off on trying for another baby, and then given instructions on when to show up for the first treatment of my kidney’s acute rejection episode, likely caused by my failed pregnancy.</span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But by some miracle of heaven and all that is magical in this world, I ended 2016 in a completely different and GOOD place.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I still have one ovary! And, right now, it probably DOES have a very large cyst on it. LOL Having one ovary has made me way more sensitive to these types of things. I never imagined that I would ever be the type of woman who proclaimed, "Oo, I'm ovulating right now." But alas, that's me. I'm THAT woman. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m not at my old job anymore! Nope. Now, I have a job. An awesome job. A job that I really care about, and I can’t wait to share more with you about what I do now. </span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
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<a href="https://some.ly/v81TCa" target="_blank"><img src="//cdn.someecards.com/someecards/filestorage/health-care-coverage-depression-anxiety-get-well-ecards-someecards.png" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Sick people are punished monetarily for their genetic defects and all that “bad behavior” that led to their sickness. BUT,now, pushing 30, I know how to stand up for myself and advocate for my health and finances when it comes to my insurance company paying for stuff and me paying for stuff. </span><span style="background-color: transparent; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_QhuBIkPXn0" style="color: #1155cc; font-size: 14.6667px;">HOMEY DON’T PLAY THAT</a><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;"><u style="color: #1155cc;"> </u>when it comes to my money and my health. </span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-style: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><span style="font-size: 14.6667px;"><br /></span></span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><img alt="ce54bd4ea7dfffdc84edfebaedef2cc9.jpg" height="468" src="https://lh3.googleusercontent.com/7LSDcr2FIJcCTLhsFVlF8RaWYloWuLWvUKtXriNX2xVP_c6BhUFRAOjGPdkcZBck867zkmPSaWh6rbFIQW-bNr2iwWH50-2tQpGWneDWz3Jtqxqm_iJEqFNXftkn3sk5_wkOxEh1" style="-webkit-transform: rotate(0.00rad); border: none; transform: rotate(0.00rad);" width="618" /></span></div>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I’m actually still waiting for instructions on whether Ben and I should try for another baby. I surprised myself early last year by not flinging my vaginal birth control rings into the trash in a rebellious fit screaming I WILL GET PREGNANT! KIDNEY OR NO KIDNEY. I actually listened to the doctors, and Ben. I went a full year without taking things into my own hands. And Ben. Bless him. I want him to be a dad so much, but I also love that he wants me to be ALIVE a lot more. </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4iAF_pF-pUKPvS2n8ppEVpgJeZpC45GMZTk44jLsRaMgJugtRrF5AVvy2Z2VHtIY_e2NnSXGlqob7zcMWJJt7PUbcm5fI176f0Arbkouk5a1R2BLz_meg_2xEwK_JpBWyIFxsLwOvdMWB/s1600/0829161036b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh4iAF_pF-pUKPvS2n8ppEVpgJeZpC45GMZTk44jLsRaMgJugtRrF5AVvy2Z2VHtIY_e2NnSXGlqob7zcMWJJt7PUbcm5fI176f0Arbkouk5a1R2BLz_meg_2xEwK_JpBWyIFxsLwOvdMWB/s400/0829161036b.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Will never stop being obsessed with him</td></tr>
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<div dir="ltr" style="line-height: 1.38; margin-bottom: 0pt; margin-top: 0pt;">
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">On the kidney front, my creatinine tends to float between the 2.3 and 2.8 range right now. I had a doctor’s appointment and was fully expecting them to tell me that I’m going on dialysis soon. That we’ve arrived. That the failure of my dad’s kidney is upon us. But nope. Not yet, anyway. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">Am I still reeling from my miscarriage? Several women who also had miscarriages told me that I would think about my daughter every day. I did not believe them at the time, but they are right. I think about her every day. I just think about her differently now. I miss her the way you miss someone you had to say goodbye to, and maybe it was for the best, but you still wish they were around sometimes. Kind of like that. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">I feel </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: italic; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">hashtagblessed</span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> to say that last year was a good year, for me. On a cultural and political level it sucked balls for many people. I also know people who, personally, would not walk away from 2016 saying it was totally the best year ever. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">But isn’t that how it goes?? EVERY YEAR is a bad year. Every single year is bad, for </span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.6667px; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><i>someone</i></span><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">. 2016 was a good year for me, but it was also a bad year for someone else. 2015 was my worst year YET. But it was also several people’s BEST year. Several women I know had very healthy babies that year, kept both of their ovaries and didn’t have to deal with a less than awesome job or shitty amounts of insurance bills piling up, or just a plain ol' shitty life. </span></div>
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<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">One of many things I read about in the news in January, the first month of a brand new year, was the announcement of a major accomplishment that took place in 2016. In 2016, </span><a href="https://www.unos.org/us-organ-transplants-set-record-in-2016/" style="text-decoration: none;"><span style="background-color: transparent; color: #1155cc; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: underline; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">33,600 organ transplants</span></a><span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"> happened in the U.S. </span><br />
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<a href="https://www.unos.org/wp-content/uploads/unos/unos-reports-record-33k-transplants-article-split2-716x488.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="272" src="https://www.unos.org/wp-content/uploads/unos/unos-reports-record-33k-transplants-article-split2-716x488.png" width="400" /></a></div>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;">So, in that way, 2016 was a very good year for the thousands of people who were so sick that they needed somebody else’s blood, tissue or organ to go on living. And hopefully, the recipients of those precious gifts, found themselves miraculously healed the day after their surgery, one day in 2016. </span><br />
<span style="background-color: transparent; color: black; font-family: "arial"; font-size: 14.666666666666666px; font-style: normal; font-variant: normal; font-weight: 400; text-decoration: none; vertical-align: baseline; white-space: pre-wrap;"><br /></span>
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-91906909361769263442016-10-11T18:27:00.003-07:002017-01-24T07:55:52.659-08:00Spooky Tales: That Time When I Didn't Have Insurance<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A little over a month ago, I quit a job that I'd had for the last seven seven years. And in the process, I gave up the insurance plan that I'd have for about that same amount of time. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I had officially transferred into the the bleak and horrifying world of the...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #666666; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>UNINSURED.**</b></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Image from Scoopnext via Huffington Post</i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I also like to refer to this as, using a <i><a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt4574334/">Stranger Things</a> </i>reference, "the upside down," because being without insurance in America does seem kind of like a a topsy turvy thing. But alas, freedom isn't free in America. And neither is health care. Once I stopped paying for my insurance with soft labor, sitting at a desk calling people and typing away, I was left with these options:</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">--await my COBRA paperwork;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">--sign up for Ben's insurance plan;</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">--sign up for my new workplace's [slightly inferior?] health insurance plan; or,</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">--take my chances in the health insurance marketplace, and search for new plan to cover me and all my inadequacies.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've only been without insurance one other time. This was when I first graduated college and before the Affordable Care Act, which I also lovingly call, Obamacare. Those were scary, desperate times for my kind--my kind being "people with preexisting conditions." </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="http://www.indiewire.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/the-exorcist.jpg?w=680" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://www.indiewire.com/wp-content/uploads/2016/01/the-exorcist.jpg?w=680" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Image from</i> <i>Indiewire<br /></i></td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Some people like to rag on Obamacare. I try not to think about those people being cruel, privileged, never-had-a-problem-in-their-life, spoiled selfish D-bags. I'm happy that Obamacare made it illegal for insurance companies to do what they did to me back in 2009, which was send me a couple of friendly notices letting me know I was just too damn unlucky in life/sick to qualify for their individual health insurance plans. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So at that time I turned to COBRA, which graciously allowed me to pay about $800 every couple of months to stay on my parents' health care plan. Did I mention that I'd just graduated from college?</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Fast forward about 10 years and I found myself in a similar situation in September. My insurance coverage for my new job wasn't set to start until 30 days after the beginning of my employment. My coverage at my last company ended on my final day of employment and the paperwork to continue my benefits wasn't set to arrive at my house for another 10 days after I quit my job. This meant that I was confronted with the dreaded....nightmarish...</span><br />
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;"><b>GAP IN COVERAGE!!!</b></span></div>
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/VKMkn8fNYL8/maxresdefault.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://i.ytimg.com/vi/VKMkn8fNYL8/maxresdefault.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;"><i>Image from Her Campus</i></td></tr>
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<span style="color: #990000; font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: x-large;">To be continued...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: x-small;"><i>**In the context of this blog post, uninsured means I was not paying for insurance coverage, coverage under my old plan had ended, I had not yet signed up for continuation of benefits and therefore had no proof of coverage under any plan.</i></span></div>
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-64435145767644169402016-09-08T18:08:00.000-07:002017-01-24T07:59:44.094-08:00Just Us for For Now<div style="text-align: left;">
<i>"Is there a word for adults when they aren't parents?"</i></div>
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<i>Steppa laughs. "Folks with other things to do?"</i></div>
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<i>"Like what things?"</i></div>
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<i>"Jobs, I guess. Friends. Trips. Hobbies."</i></div>
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--from "<a href="https://www.amazon.com/Room-Emma-Donoghue/dp/0316098329">Room</a>"</div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Today, I confessed an embarrassing concern I'd had to a friend. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After my miscarriage, I'd worried that Ben and I would grow bored with each other if, down the line, it ended up being just the two of us...forever. I told her I know that's ridiculous but almost a year ago (can you believe it) I had a thought one day-- that if Ben and I didn't have children, we'd have nothing to talk about from that point on. I think I was concerned about this because having kids was just the next step in our plan, and we'd spent so long talking about it that it seemed unlikely that we'd ever find anything worthwhile to do, or talk about, again.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Many people, mostly parents actually, have assured me that this is an INSANE worry to have. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We just came back from a ten-day long vacation, just the two of us, no friends and no family. On this trip it became very apparent to me that after 11 years together, we still haven't run out of things to do together or talk about. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I told Ben that I think one of the reasons our relationship works is the fact that we continue doing fun things together. And not just the same fun things we did when we were 18, like ordering from the Dollar Menu twice a day and watching National Treasure on repeat in his parents' living room. However, I would still watch the s&*t out of that movie...with a small fry on in hand. Just kidding. I lied. I'd have a large fry. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Naturally, as we get older and see more of the world, meet new people, we'll find new fun things to do together. Every day I think of something we could explore or learn more about, either the next day or the near future. Then I wonder, how could I have ever been so stupid to worry that Ben and I would run out of things to do or say to each other absent a screaming toddler.</span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYyWSNYpOjf7f8E1hXfxLFQ2ySkiW1pkaPIin6AUueErsabDShSjofdwEttrmhJSW96H-cZ0hGp2zbwao_eCfCm5UdypLvVE6glnCvYTkIfTXvG0PDlCuKnlmfH3Pg3GCi4TZ7O4e-hJS/s1600/0829161036b.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwYyWSNYpOjf7f8E1hXfxLFQ2ySkiW1pkaPIin6AUueErsabDShSjofdwEttrmhJSW96H-cZ0hGp2zbwao_eCfCm5UdypLvVE6glnCvYTkIfTXvG0PDlCuKnlmfH3Pg3GCi4TZ7O4e-hJS/s400/0829161036b.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The other night, the day after vacation we started prepping for our returns to work. My outlook turned toward the weekend, already. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">"So, what do you think we'll do over the weekend?" I asked Ben, hoping he'd help me strategically plan out our first free days post-vacay. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ben's response: "I guess whatever we want." I silently nodded in agreement and thought, he's right. We can do whatever we want, just the two of us, forever, if we want.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i>Here are a few pictures of our very recent trip to L.A., and Sequoia and Yosemite National Parks.</i></span></div>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">At the Getty Garden.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Malibu Barbie. aka, me at El Dorado State Beach</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A reunion with friends at Griffith Observatory.</td></tr>
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">General Sherman, the largest tree by volume in the world.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The view from Moro Rock in Sequoia.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The View from Glacier Point at Yosemite.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Ben is a speck here at Taft Point.<br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Sentinel Dome<br />
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-30058213328361397642016-08-10T09:24:00.000-07:002016-09-08T18:09:24.535-07:00Five Years Max<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I think it's time for a little kidney update. So, here goes.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My transplant nephrologist recently told me that I'm probably only going to have my dad's kidney for another two years. That would put its transplant life at just <b>five years.</b></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Trust me. I know that's not a long time. We all hear and read stories of people having their kidney transplants for 10, 20, even 30 years. Well, this is the story of the girl who only had her transplant for five years. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I really wished, hoped, and at one time I prayed, that I would get to be in the first group, regaling others with the success story of my kidney transplant. But five years is not a success story. It's more like a failure. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Chronic kidney rejection is what my nephrologist thinks I may be experiencing. It's not acute rejection, which can be treated with steroids. It's the type that just simply progresses to kidney failure. The infections, multiple surgeries and my miscarriage all may have played a part in why this is happening. The "why" of it all seems to be of more concern to people who aren't me, or people who haven't experienced chronic illness. When you've been sick for half of your life, you eventually stop striving to determine the "why" or the "how." Many times, knowing that information doesn't change the present situation or the future outcome. And unless you own a hot tub time machine or DeLorean, it's impossible to go back in time and change the past.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">As I've matured in my experience with chronic illness, I've tried to focus more on "what does this mean," and "what are the next steps." I'm having more labs, and another biopsy in about two months.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But in between then I'm starting a new job, continuing to run my book club and just living my life. I feel so fortunate that I can do that, that being "just live my life." I don't take that for granted at all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On days when I do feel sad about this, I remember that I have been through kidney failure before. I have seen sickness and I have seen death. And if I have to, I will deal with it again. In fact, I might even handle things better than I did last time. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Image from Buzzfeed</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-3070791894292879822016-08-02T19:28:00.000-07:002016-08-10T09:51:28.432-07:00Homeowning: The Pros & Cons<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Last Spring we asked my friend to help us find a house. Three months, a few screaming matches, and four rejected offers later we found our humble abode. It was a little further away from our ideal location. But it cost less, has more space, and has better renovations than some of the other places we considered. It also doesn't hurt that we live ten minutes away from my favorite store. Wegmans. Yes. My favorite store is a grocery store because I am hungry...all the time.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Around July 22, Ben and I celebrated the one-year anniversary of us closing on our first home. Around this time last year, we sat in a room for about two hours signing our names over and over again, sometimes reading the fine print, and then I handed over a check with what seemed like a billion zeros written down for our down payment. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Now that we've had a mortgage for a year, I've decided that home owning is...a nice idea. But it's not the BEST idea. Here are my pros and cons, with a few of Ben's mixed in.</span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCCUXgeL43XFDWLV5SdY6GkWEFeRryqXvcFIOFM8umlsvdxHIfWoLK8xHdWc1ARSYElNxMI6i0Nm7aMqPBqA6ikGGUAtKztQABQWD11U0pJnpQ8KqETBKhA5ttsxx0dvslkHCDKlR3NcCK/s1600/1025151304.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="225" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgCCUXgeL43XFDWLV5SdY6GkWEFeRryqXvcFIOFM8umlsvdxHIfWoLK8xHdWc1ARSYElNxMI6i0Nm7aMqPBqA6ikGGUAtKztQABQWD11U0pJnpQ8KqETBKhA5ttsxx0dvslkHCDKlR3NcCK/s400/1025151304.jpg" width="400" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The early days of our living room.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Pro: Owning a home allows you to change anything you don't like. </b>It's nice to be able to paint or build something without worrying about changing it back to its original state before moving out. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Con: Except....sometimes you do have to change it back. </b>We're not planning on selling our place for a LONG TIME. But it's not unheard of for home sellers to have to make a thousand changes to their houses before they put it on the market. Potential sellers repaint, re-mulch, re-sand, re-do floors/cabinets/crown molding...the list really can go on...to give their place the best chance at selling for the highest amount. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Furniture shopping at Home Goods.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Pro:</b> <b>Tax Breaks</b>. The government gives you money because you decided to buy good ol' 'Merican property.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Con: But owning home is still kind of expensive</b>. The outflow of cash doesn't stop after the down payment. I feel like five minutes after I wrote that check with all the zeros, we had to write a lot more smaller checks for things like turning on our water, and other random things that you forget to Google when you're researching "how to buy a home." Also, because we have more rooms and wanted to get out of the whole "We have crap furniture stage!" we had to invest in a few nice pieces of furniture. Our place isn't completely furnished or decorated. We've decided to take the "scenic route" when it comes to furnishing our place. The "scenic route" involves slowly saving up money for things we really want while continuing to admire the beauty of a few blank walls and the "man cave" that still houses one of the couches our cat destroyed.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Pro: We have outdoor space!</b> For four years we rented an apartment that had a nice little balcony. Now, we live in a house with a two-level deck. And because stuff is expensive, only the top level is outfitted with seating, lighting, plants and a grill. And since Mother's Day we've been spending as much time as we can eating, reading, and hosting our deck. We also have a tiny backyard, that we ended up tearing up and adding two raised beds for some tomatoes, some [maybe] dead green beans, and some zucchini plants that were destroyed by squirrels.</span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Before we added the raised beds</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Con: We have yard work and have to fix stuff (or pay for it to get fixed). </b>SnapChat is the social media platform I use the most. And if you follow me on there, then you'd think my second favorite store was Home Depot. It's not, but as a new home owner you find yourself there if not every weekend, every other weekend, or at least once a month buying stuff to help you hammer, nail, rake, mow, drill weed-wack, dig, shovel...etc. Our previous owners apparently LOVED flowers. We thought we did, too. Then we realized that maintaining a huge bed of flora in our front yard required lots and lots of time. And then sometimes stuff breaks or doesn't look right. It's in those moments when we have to decide whether we're going to fix it, or just tell people: "Yes, that's the front part of the silverware drawer on the kitchen floor." </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">The moment we realized our $200 Nest Thermostat was NOT compatible with our house.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Pro (I Guess):</b> <b>Believing that this will all pay off. </b> I've always thought long-term. I like planning things, like vacations, book club meetings, my next meal. So I guess I get more excited thinking about the fact that we already have some equity, so ideally we'll be able to take that and whatever we save over the next few years and use it to buy our second house. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">One year in, I can't say I'm 100 percent SOLD on the idea of BUYING a home (hehehe). It is really nice to have our own larger space and property that we seem to have a lot of control over. It makes me feel very adult. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">It's also comforting to know that our "rent" isn't going to go up this year!! When we lived in our apartment, the rent increased by about $50 every year because why not! </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-15214828444765293792016-07-20T09:43:00.001-07:002016-08-02T19:29:35.339-07:00When I Talk About My Miscarriage<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A list of some things that happened when I've talked about my miscarriage:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A female relative sends a message to me about her miscarriage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Another female relative sends a message about her miscarriage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Another female relative sends me a message about her miscarriage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A colleague tells me about her miscarriages. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A colleague tells me about his friend's stillbirth.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">An aunt tells me about her miscarriage. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Another aunt tells me about her miscarriage, but also her stillbirth.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A colleague and his wife take me to lunch to share the story of their son's stillbirth.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A friend tells me about her relative who had a miscarriage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My nurse at my kidney doctor's office cries with me while telling me about her miscarriage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The same colleague and his wife share with me everything they went through following their son's death. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My kidney doctor tells me about his and his wife's miscarriage. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The neighbor with whom I started walking to the commuter train in the morning tells me that he and his wife suffered miscarriage. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A colleague tells me about her miscarriage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The security guard at my office tells me about her miscarriage.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've had a heart-to-heart connection with all of the people that I've listed above. We use words when we talk about our miscarriages, but there's also a silent communication that isn't easily translated into traditional sentence structure. There's a subtle nod, a sharpened look, a shift in the physical space between us. There is a transfer of information and emotion. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There is an understanding that we truly see each other. We see the layer of each other that holds our daydreams of decorated nurseries, and our nightmares. We see the layer that keeps those first ultrasound images of a buzzing embryo, and the images of a still dark space. We see the rounded swollen tummy that was once there, and the empty uterus the day after. We see those initial feelings of pregnancy bliss...and then the longing, hopelessness, fear, and grief that seems to last much longer than expected. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When I talk about my miscarriage with other people, I realize that I'm not the only one. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When I talk about my miscarriage, I also become free. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-43842550444692195982016-06-29T10:03:00.000-07:002016-07-20T09:43:47.966-07:00Posts from the Archives: Part 2<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I really liked revisiting my posts from a few years ago in May. So I'm doing it again in July. SO SO fascinating to see where my head was at and what things I was interested in a year ago and even earlier. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Apparently, I didn't write a blog post in July last year. This was probably because I was still trying to keep my pregnancy a secret. You know, the "first trimester way." So, instead you get to revisit...</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://jewelskidney.blogspot.com/2015/06/kidney-update-two-year-biopsy.html">My annual biopsy results from last year.</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I remember wanting everything to be near PERFECT before conceiving. I had my biopsy in April, and got the results shortly after. I got pregnant in May, and then wrote the post above in June.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">You can also learn about...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://jewelskidney.blogspot.com/2014/07/how-to-be-irresponsible-adultoverdose-on.html">The first time I took too much, too little, or not enough medicine.</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I didn't reread this post fully, but I know it had something to do with me screwing up my medicine. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">AND, in case you forgot what I look like with my clothes off, you can read about...</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://jewelskidney.blogspot.com/2013/07/the-blueprint.html">The scars I have from my transplant surgery and PD catheter procedure.</a></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I have a few more now, bullet holes really, from when I had my appendix and right ovary removed. </span></div>
Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-80162683029368822012016-06-24T07:42:00.004-07:002016-06-30T06:57:40.201-07:00Mid-Year Review: Is 2016 One of My Best?<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This doesn't really need to be said again BUT... 2015 was s*&t. I guess I just don't want you to forget that fact. I don't want to forget it. Yet, if I'm being honest, sometimes I do. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I started this year with one goal: find more ways to <i>enjoy my life</i>. This is unoriginal. Spend five seconds on Pinterest and you'll find enough "Live Laugh Love" images that you'll want to rebel against the notion. "I REFUSE TO LIVE, LAUGH OR LOVE!" you'll shout. The more this idea gets thrown in our faces, the less genuine and urgent it feels.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I chose this broad goal because I felt like I spent too much of 2015 doing the opposite of enjoying my life. I'm a recovering control freak and psycho planner. And when Ben and I agreed to "plan for" our baby, I relapsed into my old ways of trying to control the process and the outcome of every single situation. And everyone knows that when you try to control everything, you enjoy NOTHING. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So for the first time at the end of last year I actually embraced the concept of <i>letting shit go</i>. I woke up one day and realized that I'm young. I have money. I have a kidney that mostly works, and I also have health insurance, just in case it doesn't. I'm lucky to have these things so there should be no excuse for me to NOT enjoy my life. I also, don't have children. This isn't a prerequisite to enjoying life, but hell, childlessness sure does make it easier to enjoy certain things.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm still grieving the loss of my girl. I think about her every day. I'm wondering if there will ever be a day when I don't. It doesn't seem likely. And the sadness from losing her comes and goes, but right now, I'm having more good days than bad ones. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">When I have a bad day, I let it happen. I let it be and I accept for what it is--a day when I really really wish that my cervix hadn't opened up forcing me to end my pregnancy. And then I just hope that the next day is better.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And a lot of times, it is! </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This year, I feel stronger. I still hate when people say "what doesn't kill you will make you stronger." I always protest: "But I didn't ask to be stronger." In my case, I finally feel like the experiences I've had in my life so far have turned me into real steel. Some days I feel like titanium runs through my veins and literally nothing can stop me. I doubt my emotional and mental capabilities a lot less. And I'm beginning to feel the same way about my physical abilities as well, mostly functioning transplanted kidney and all. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Looking back on the year so far, I don't I have any regrets. I've probably spent way more money this year than I have in previous years, on lots of experiences of course. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> I've gone out to eat a lot more times and had more fancy dinners. I've gone on more trips that didn't require months and months of planning. I've purchased more clothing...something I NEVER do! I've even bought more make up! LOL And I never wear make up. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I started hosting a monthly book/movies discussion club, something I've always wanted to do but didn't think I was truly qualified to do it.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And, to be completely transparent, a major factor in being able to enjoy my life has been giving myself permission to do things I wouldn't have done last year, including letting go of my church life. I gave myself permission to stop going to church when I felt like I wasn't enjoying being there anymore. And I spend my Sundays NOT feeling guilty about it, which is great. A big part of enjoying life has to do with feeling guilt-free.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Notice an important word in my goal. I'm setting out to enjoying MY life, not someone else's. Avoiding comparison is also important to accomplishing this goal. As a woman, it's easy to fall into the trap of believing that if you only had the husband, the nice home, the children, the money, the dog, the vacation, the nice car and whatever else, THEN you would be happy. I think women are more likely to make checklists and find purpose in crossing everything off in a timely manner. But life doesn't work like that! </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I've done a good job of not comparing myself to people who have children. COUNTER TO SOME OPINIONS...I have found a way to experience great joy without holding a baby 24/7. And I assume that the people who are parents, have found a way to do the same with children in their lives. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I guess I feel grateful and hopeful to know that if I'm ever given that privilege to be a parent, my kids' mother will be a woman who is much stronger than she was in 2015, much wiser, bolder and a lot more FUN. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">So, my assessment of 2016 so far? Great. Let's keep the greatness going for another six months, or more. </span><br />
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-29554215000836969892016-06-15T00:00:00.000-07:002016-06-24T07:45:35.027-07:00Three Years, Three Things<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Ben and I celebrated our third wedding anniversary on <a href="http://jewelskidney.blogspot.com/p/our-wedding.html">June 15</a>. YAY. For this year's anniversary post, we each answered a set of questions, a few that came from outside sources, about our relationship. This post is a long one, so feel free to skip to the end and watch a clip from one of Ben's and my favorite movies and our favorite <a href="http://www.everythingtarantino.com/">filmmaker</a>. ***<i>You'll also be able to hear the song we danced our <a href="http://jewelskidney.blogspot.com/2014/02/we-got-married-music-to-my-ears.html">first dance</a> to playing in the background LOL***</i></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Three favorite things about being married:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Jewel:</i></b> I love the feelings of safety and security in a relationship that come with marriage. And I like how I can say whatever I want to Ben and he's not judgmental. That might just be unique to Ben, but I do think there should be open lines of communication in every marriage. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Ben:</i></b> It's such a comfort knowing you can come home and someone is going to listen to you gripe about work or ask you if everything is OK and generally BE THERE. Jewel is so tied into the DNA of my life now that if I have to spend a few days away from her I pretty much forget how to function like a respectable member of society. Two other great things about being married have to be the financial security and the division of labor. I might never cook again.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Jewel</i>: I'm happy that right after celebrating our second anniversary, we went under contract on our house. And around the same time, we found out I was pregnant. We know how that turned out. Still, I look back on those days and feel nothing but gratitude for the chance to experience such a precious time. Then after my miscarriage, I swore that I would pretty much go "YOLO" on the rest of the year. So every moment--from spending $200 on champagne for our NYE party and taking two trips to the Caribbean within one month of each other---were my favorite moments. That's probably more than three things, but whatever.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Ben:</i></b> I had a blast when we went to see the Kansas City Chiefs play in Baltimore. It wasn't a particularly good game, but Jewel went with me and cheered so much that she fell asleep within minutes of starting the drive home. Buying a house also makes the list; it has been almost a year and it still feels surreal. Lastly, there were so many great hikes and dinners out that I look back on fondly. Jewel always picks out the best things to do.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Three things you like about your spouse:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Jewel: </i><i style="font-weight: bold;"> </i><span style="font-weight: bold;">I love Ben's sense of humor.</span><b> </b> I also like the way Ben looks. Solid second thing.</span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And I like how Ben is really good at talking me down from the ledge. He always reminds me that there's no point worrying about things we can't control.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Ben:</i> </b> I have a love/hate relationship with Jewel's excitable personality. She gets this lightning in her eyes over the smallest things sometimes, and while there are moments when I wish she would just calm down, it's highly endearing. Another good thing about Jewel is she genuinely cares about me. She can tell if I'm tired, sad, injured, or pretty much if there is anything wrong with me. She picks up on it like a drug-sniffing dog and immediately offers to help. She even cares about my cholesterol and modified her cooking to try to lower it, which leads me to number three. The girl can cook. I know I can never realistically leave her because I'm so spoiled by her preparing all of our meals.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Jewel: </i>Ben's memory. If it's not football- or work-related, he doesn't remember anything. I also dislike how stubborn he is when it comes to me suggesting that he write things down so that he can remember them. He won't do it. And I dislike how...Ben seems to never be hungry. I'm always hungry.</span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><b>Ben:</b></i> Jewel takes four times as long to prepare for bed than I do. Even if I'm already in bed she turns on every single light, makes as much noise as possible, and then wants to read in bed or talk for 15 minutes. She also has lengthy conversations with the cat, and won't stop peeing with the door open.</span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Three favorite things from the wedding: </b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Jewel:</i> From what I remember, I really enjoyed our <a href="http://jewelskidney.blogspot.com/2014/02/we-got-married-seeing-each-other-before.html">"first look,"</a> seeing each other before the wedding. I also enjoyed the actual ceremony. And I think I was happy when it was over? I just know I was really exhausted by the end of the night, and I didn't eat any of our wedding desserts. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Ben:</i></b> It sounds lame, but Jewel looked so <a href="http://jewelskidney.blogspot.com/search/label/wedding%20day">pretty</a>. I was staring at her the whole time. Its a big bonus to your wedding day when your wife looks super hot. I also liked how our wedding was relatively big. we had about 180 people and I got to chat up people I hadn't seen in a while in a really unique setting. The details of the wedding also need mentioning. Jewel gave me free reign to wear what I wanted, pick the venue I liked, plan lots of the music and generally put my footprint on the day. </span></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Three things you would do differently if you planned the wedding today:</b></span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Jewel</i>: I think I would have had it outside. LOL I know that's ridiculous because Virginia is really hot in the summer. I also would have used a different caterer. We went to a friend's wedding a few years ago where they served the best wedding food ever: fried chicken and macaroni and cheese. YEP. And lastly, this kind of goes against the whole outdoors vibe, but maybe I would have had a "black tie" wedding and made everyone dress up. </span><br />
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<span style="background-color: white;"><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b><i>Ben:</i></b> I'm kind of cheap. So even though I really liked our wedding, we probably could have skimmed some overhead. We should have allotted more time for talking to guests, too. We didn't actually make it to every single table. Oops. Lastly, I would have changed Jewel's "walking down the aisle" song to the Juras</span></span><span style="background-color: white; font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">sic Park <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7pvci1hwAx8">theme song</a>. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Jewel</i>: I'm looking forward to going to Yosemite, and the hikes we're going to do in preparation for that. I'm also looking forward to going to see <i><a href="http://www.hamiltonbroadway.com/">Hamilton</a>...</i>....in nine months! LOL</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i style="font-weight: bold;">Ben:</i> Jewel assures me that my upcoming birthday will be one to remember. We're also planning to catch another Chiefs game this year. And finally, our house is going to look like an actual home as we gradually wrap up painting and furnishing the final areas. Man cave coming soon!</span><br />
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-27893983543774131772016-06-11T14:23:00.003-07:002016-06-16T20:24:26.434-07:00Faith: Am I Ready to Hope Again? <div style="text-align: center;">
<i>Hope is much like a cat in the Dark--you only know it's there by the reflection of its eyes--which means there is Light nearby.</i></div>
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<i>-- Terri Guillemets--</i></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm not a pessimist. And, despite everything that's happened, I don't think I'm turning into one. I did think the pessimist spirit was gaining on me for a bit, but it never actually caught up. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I used to be an optimist. I hesitate to call myself one now. The first definition Google provides for that type of person is someone who is "hopeful and confident about the future." Yeah, that doesn't quite describe me really. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On average, I have not been very hopeful or confident about my future. But sometimes, confetti sized images, of a future that could be....not just any future...but one where I get everything I want...float down into my thoughts.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A future where I am healed. A future where I am a mom. A future where I'm hopeful and confident about...anything. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And then sometimes these images, these teeny tiny visions of the perfect everything turn into day dreams, or something I think about for longer than a few seconds while trying to fall asleep. And then, inconveniently, sometimes these thoughts turn into such intense feelings of wanting, longing and hoping that I have to blink a few times or shake my head to make the visions dissipate quickly. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I remind myself that I can't waste any time hoping that these things will happen. Or wishing I wanted have that type of confident hope again.. I don't want to live my life wishing, or die feeling that my life was lacking...thinking on all the things I hoped for and how they just weren't in "God's plan" for me. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And this does make me sad. Feeling hopeful and confident about my future carried me through kidney failure. But I like to say that I'm more of a realist, now. I realize more than I ever did before that anything bad can happen to you at any time. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After I received my transplant, I think I forgot about that. I thought my "hard thing"--my trial--was behind me. That way of thinking is selfish and immature.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But every once in a while, I hear myself whisper: "Anything good can happen to you at any time." </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And I guess that's just it isn't it. Anything--good or bad--can happen to you at anytime. Maybe hope is just simply...accepting that. Accepting that we are going to be sad, angry, pissed off, and we are going to lose things in life. No matter how much hope or confidence we have about an outcome. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I accept that. I accept that there are things and events, even people, that I have absolutely no control over. I accept that a bad thing could happen to me or to someone I love right fucking now. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But maybe...a good thing will happen, too. </span><br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimuoIIybDCRZJENK8pVmimF0hqgBUG_g0Y7PlggQVXXCerLHg-yICjVqQL5TE1wtj0zT0Gxh5mUp-OEo2PPs0gXSx2mPpb2Gz6Ep6hJsGEP74Nm2hcj5PBVUUi4Y_CZBjHefvd8ukAPYaa/s1600/IMG_3052.JPG" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEimuoIIybDCRZJENK8pVmimF0hqgBUG_g0Y7PlggQVXXCerLHg-yICjVqQL5TE1wtj0zT0Gxh5mUp-OEo2PPs0gXSx2mPpb2Gz6Ep6hJsGEP74Nm2hcj5PBVUUi4Y_CZBjHefvd8ukAPYaa/s320/IMG_3052.JPG" width="240" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Nowadays, I find myself smiling about those "hopeful maybes" a lot more often. It's strange and foreign to me because I wasn't doing it for so long. And I'm vulnerable. I hated being in a position of clinging so tightly to the positive outcome of a situation that when it was eventually ripped away, it took pieces of me with it. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Phrases that I have written down in my phone, that I read often to keep me in check: Nothing is promised. Tomorrow isn't guaranteed. God doesn't owe me anything. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But even with all the infinite possibilities of how a situation could go wrong, one fact will always remain, until this Earth finally blows up from global warming: there are infinite possibilities of how a situation could go right, too. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Who knows. I'm no scientist and y'all all know that I'm effing terrible at math. Those possibilities might not be so infinite. Maybe.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "times" , "times new roman" , serif;"><i>**This post is filled with pictures of times when something good happened to me. The picture above is of Nationals Park, our local baseball stadium. Ben and I went to the game on the first sunny day in D.C. following 15 days of rain.**</i></span></div>
Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-35413084897530432162016-05-23T14:01:00.001-07:002016-06-11T14:24:49.769-07:00Three Things NOT Related to My Health Status<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My next kidney doctor appointment is on June 22. And, WOW, for once, nothing majorly dramatic is happening in my health life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Yeah. So this calls for a blog post about things in my life unrelated to my health issues! Although I do have some chronic issues in my life, I'm not constantly thinking about them. For a few minutes or hours each day, believe it or not, I don't think about A) my transplant; B) my miscarriage; or C) other ways the universe/God/whoever can torture me for the rest of my time on this planet. Here's where some of my energy and good vibes have been going these days: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>We started a garden. </b>When we lived in an apartment, closer in to the city, during our last real summer there we decided to start a balcony garden. And what a surprising success it was. We grew a bounty of cherry tomatoes, jalapenos and basil IN POTS on a very sunny balcony that faced a crowded parking lot and a huge dumpster. Our parsley in a pot did OK and our mint burnt to a crisp. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But it was that summer that we were bit by the gardening bug. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This year, with tons more space and hand-constructed raised beds, we've graduated to zucchini, three types of tomatoes, bush beans, plus herbs. And we added a lemon tree and a blueberry plant (that birds on our deck might be attacking as I write this). </span><br />
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<tr><td style="text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21kaq1NzCQeZ4kDHTbGI_SFZZfDMyg7OhrjoQLipG36LVaI4_TYb6qIhxfthIl9FVEM02Udg77cF2m3r7PPT3NqODSZZC1KBIomfOsJ4jujt0AFQChjWtpUxEI3EFYCnefO5SgvMz5Wub/s1600/0520161138.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: auto; margin-right: auto;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg21kaq1NzCQeZ4kDHTbGI_SFZZfDMyg7OhrjoQLipG36LVaI4_TYb6qIhxfthIl9FVEM02Udg77cF2m3r7PPT3NqODSZZC1KBIomfOsJ4jujt0AFQChjWtpUxEI3EFYCnefO5SgvMz5Wub/s400/0520161138.jpg" width="225" /></a></td></tr>
<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Lemon tree, Blueberry bush, and parsley...literally ON DECK.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Gardening...it doesn't really make sense, you know? First of all, it's a big investment. And second, depending on where you live, how big your garden is and whether there's a tribe of squirrels nearby, you're never going to grow the amount of produce you'd like if you want to replace the need to go to the grocery store. I think we'll be able to harvest our tomatoes in a couple of months. I'm not waiting that long to eat a tomato. It's kind of a ridiculous hobby, but it's also kind of fun.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>I've been hosting a discussion club, and Ben's been hosting game nights. </b>The best thing about owning a place with a little more space and better parking, is being able to invite all your friends over. Since February, I've hosted my girlfriends at my house once a month. We discuss the books we're reading and I make a s*%t ton of food. Everybody eats a little bit of food and then we also talk about boys. It's really great. The last meeting I held was actually a movie night and we watched <a href="http://www.imdb.com/title/tt3263996/">The Overnighters</a>.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And then Ben, decided he'd start a monthly Friday-night game night with his guy friends. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>We're going to California. </b>I've already got two vacations under my belt this year. One with Ben and one with friends. Both trips were big beach trips. And they were both glorious. But because of who Ben and I are, we knew we couldn't just go the REST of the year without doing one more thing. So we're going to California! We're going to visit my BFF/roommate forever (I still refer to her as my roommate) and her husband in L.A. Then we're going to Sequoia National Park and Yosemite National Park. This trip just so happens to coincide with the <a href="https://www.nps.gov/subjects/centennial/index.htm">National Parks Service's 100th birthday, too</a>. That means we get to visit these two parks for FREEEEEE! I can't wait to share more about what we're planning for this trip as we continue setting things up for my first REAL visit to Cali. I visited Death Valley in 2014 but that was the extent of my California dreamin'.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And now, probably for the rest of the week, I'm going to be thinking about Memorial Day, having a four-day weekend, the return of hot, sunny weather in the D.C. area, char-grilled food, being outside and all the happy memories I have associated with summer. </span></div>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-65297121687496421432016-05-16T10:04:00.001-07:002016-05-23T14:01:45.092-07:00Posts from the Archives<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I'm working on new material, so I thought it would be fun/lazy to remind you of some stuff I've written in the past, around this same time in years prior. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">SO, let's revisit:</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><a href="http://jewelskidney.blogspot.com/2013/05/we-did-it-and-more-tales-from-my.html">That Time I Had a Kidney Transplant</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><a href="http://jewelskidney.blogspot.com/2014/05/vacation-all-i-ever-wanted.html">That Time I Went to Greece with My New/First/Only Husband</a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><a href="http://jewelskidney.blogspot.com/2015/05/app-er-tunities-for-health-maintenance.html">That Time I Tried to Start A Series About My Favorite Health Apps </a></i></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><i><a href="http://jewelskidney.blogspot.com/2015/05/app-er-tunities-for-health-maintenance.html">(but stopped at part one. Oops.)</a></i></span></div>
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-87389260701481406722016-05-06T00:00:00.000-07:002016-05-16T10:07:20.172-07:00It's Hard Out Here for a Mom<blockquote class="tr_bq" style="text-align: center;">
<span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;"><i>God could not be everywhere, so he created mothers. </i></span></blockquote>
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<i><span style="font-family: "georgia" , "times new roman" , serif; font-size: large;">~Jewish Proverb</span></i></blockquote>
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On Aug. 3, 2015, I woke up, in the hospital. The story of my life. I'd spent most of the day before that vomiting up everything that I ate. Ben was my witness. We both figured it was morning sickness, since I was 11 weeks pregnant at the time. But when the vomiting turned to blood, </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I ended up <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">going to the</span> nearest Inova ER center.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">After a night of exams I woke up around 11 AM on Aug. 3<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">. </span>I figured it was a little late to schedule a surgery. Then I saw the doctor. He told me that my appendix was quite inflamed and that I was going to have emergency surgery<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">...while <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">pregnant.</span></span> </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I felt the hot sting of tears and forced myself not to cry but here I was, about to go under for my third surgery.<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> And my</span> family wasn't with me.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Everything moved so fast<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> after that. The nurse<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> g</span></span>ave me a phone to call my people<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Ben and my Mom<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">. They both starte<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">d m<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">aking their way to<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> Alexandria hosp<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">ital, I assumed.</span></span></span></span></span></span>.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In pre-op, the bevy of nurses and doctors assigned to my operation came in one-by-one. Eventually, <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">the </span>surgeon, usually one of the last physicians to check in, <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">would <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">come in and</span></span> give me the spiel about all the risks of having an appendecto<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">my while <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">pregnant</span></span>. I signed the consent forms, <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">and contin<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">u<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">ed to wait for </span></span></span>at least ONE of my family members to poke their heads through the pre-op curtain.This wasn't my first surgery rodeo. But in that moment, I realized that I didn't want the last face I saw to be my very wonderful surgical nurse<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">.</span> </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The medical staff checked and double checked, but none of my <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">family </span>mem<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">bers </span>were in the pre-surgery area. I <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">s</span>teeled myself to go it alone.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And then, like a scene out of rom-com, my mom rushed in and I could feel the dam breaking. She came in like she always <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">does</span>, before and after every surgery I've ever had. Smiling a huge smile. Saying "Haaay Jewel!" Rubbing my [wet with tears] face and my hands. Kissing my cheeks. She's been doing this for a long time now, and I'm almost 30 years old. She assured me that everything was going to be OK. Then she hugged the doctors and nurses, and asked that they take good care of me. Everyone in almost every pre-op room I've ever been in, seems to love my mom and the bursts of optimism, energy and fun she seems to bring to every situation. The medical staff<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span>returned her smiles and hugs.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Before my mom ran back to the waiting room, I asked her where Ben was. She smiled big, and whispered: "Ben went to the wrong hospital." My tears started to dry up, I rolled my eyes, and we both shared a chuckle. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We laugh, but I'm sure it can't be easy for my mom. I doubt that when we were both dressed in our matching blue leggings and leotards, preparing to exercise together when I was just a toddler and she was about my age, that she ever thought of <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">the </span>moments when I would be prepping for surgery. Or even the other scary events that proceeded them. Like my diagnosis with kidney disease as a teenager, and the nearly two years of treatment that <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">we bo<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">th</span></span> endured. Manic episodes following steroid treatments. Long slow prayers for healing with my Aunt Sallie, that weren't quickly answered. My kidneys ultimately failing. <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My mom </span>was the first to volunteer to donate...and the first to be eliminated from consideration...if only because she is the lone A-positive blood type in our immediate family. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">She endured my transplant, watching as both her husband and her first born donned hospital gowns and disappeared down a hallway with about 20 doctors and nurses for about <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">eight </span>hours. I saw Ben and her hard-to-miss smiling face <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">looking </span>down on me as I came out of anesthesia.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My mom also smiled over me and rubbed my face and rubbed my hands, even as I let big fat tears soak my pillow while I miscarried in one of the hospital delivery rooms last fall. In that moment, as my chance of being a mother slowly and painfully slipped away, I needed my <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">mother<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"> </span></span>so much. <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I th<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">ink everyone there </span></span>needed her. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">A lot of people tell me what a strong woman I am. They don't know how I do it, some say. And I agree with everyone. I am a strong bitch. But you know what? Some women got their asses from their mommas. Or their brown eyes. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My mom gave me her smile and quirky sense of humor. She's one of the reasons that y'all are able to read some of these blog posts containing some pretty devastating themes and you still find yourself giggling (I hope).</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And when it comes to all that strength that people like to comment on, my mom is the OG of mettle. Every molecule of fortitude that's in my DNA comes from her. </span></div>
Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-84821902879606871992016-05-04T09:31:00.002-07:002016-05-13T07:48:44.632-07:00Three<div class="MsoNormal">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I read an excellent blog post about kidney
transplants. I think the first paragraph describes how I feel about all of
this, now that I’ve completed three years with a transplant and am entering my fourth:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="http://www.kidneyfund.org/kidney-today/5-things-you-should-know-if-you-want-a-kidney-transplant.html#.Vydc5OIrJD8">“A kidney transplant is a treatment, not a cure.” </a><o:p></o:p></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I didn't fully understand what that means until this year, when
I was in my doctor’s office and he was explaining all the ways to treat my
first rejection episode. I’ll never forget that when it was revealed I was having
rejection, a very acute episode, nobody seemed to panic. Nobody seemed worried.
The doctors and my nurse didn’t balk at the fact that I was planning to leave
the country for Zika-infested lands, twice. I think someone even asked me if I was still trying to have
children. Cue MASSIVE side eye</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I now realize that no one was really shocked because <b>these things happen</b>. As my transplant nephrologist put it,
transplanted organs are very sensitive and they don’t always act the way we
want them to. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Last year, in the months leading up to the second anniversary
with my kidney, I was an emotional mess.
My kidney function and creatinine were all over the place. My blood
pressure was crazy. And I wanted to get everything PERFECT because I wanted to
have a baby. Fast-forward to this year:
my creatinine is still all over the place. My blood pressure is still crazy. And
I’m being treated for my first rejection episode. But something’s changed with my mindset. After my miscarriage, I FINALLY
realized that there is no point in worrying about things that I truly cannot
control. I now feel the same way as my
doctors. <b>Stuff happens. It’s a fact of life.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Going into my fourth year, I have one expectation and
hope. I want to make it to May
3, 2017 without going into kidney failure again. Living with a transplant is a numbers game
for me. Every year with a kidney that isn’t
failing, is a victory.</span><o:p></o:p></div>
Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-31112494508813867892016-04-29T07:24:00.000-07:002016-05-06T14:04:25.005-07:00On Faith: Where Did Mine Go?<blockquote class="tr_bq">
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"Pure gold put in the fire comes out of it <b>proved </b>pure; genuine faith put through this suffering comes out <b>proved </b>genuine. When Jesus wraps this all up, it's your faith, not your gold, that God will have on display as evidence of His victory." </i></span> </blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">If you've been reading this blog for a while, you'd know that I am a Christian. I've been a Christian all my life, but I didn't really start "walking with the Lord," as they say, until maybe four or five years ago. I started going to church a lot, and I joined bible studies. I even started a prayer group at my job. Most importantly, I learned what it really means to have a relationship with God--what it means to talk to Him, and hear from Him and to really live your life in a way that honors Him. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I think everyone's faith is tested in hard times. Jesus had to walk a desert for 40 days, and He was tested and tempted. And the bible is filled with examples of these types of tests, as well as a few tips on how to "pass" them. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I don't know what I'm even trying to say here..but maybe I've failed my test. After my miscarriage, I stopped praying. I stopped going to church. And I stopped reading the bible. I still have a relationship with God, but it isn't how it used to be. I still believe in God, and I think I always will. I tried to imagine myself as someone who doesn't believe in God...and it just didn't make sense...not for me. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I believe in God, but I've stopped believing in other things, like other promises and scriptures I learned throughout my life. Actually, I think I still <i>believe </i>them, however I read and interpret them differently. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Sometimes I wonder, maybe this all happened--the miscarriage and all my kidney issues-- to show me whether I really have what it takes to be a Christian. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And lately I've been thinking, maybe I don't. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , sans-serif; font-size: large;"><i>"You never know how much you really believe anything until its truth or falsehood becomes a matter of life and death to you. It is easy to say you believe a rope to be strong and sound as long as you are merely using it to cord a box. But suppose you had to hang by that rope over a precipice. Wouldn't you then first discover how much you really trusted it?"</i></span></blockquote>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I went to church for the first time recently, after being gone for about six months. I decided to return for my church's monthly women's service, which only view as "half church." I managed to sit through the songs and the message, but left before prayer. A prayer without faith is meaningless. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Maybe it's OK to be shaken, in what we believe. Maybe every negative thought and every doubt that we have about God or who He is or "His promises" as we Christians like to say, maybe it isn't all a "lie from the enemy." Maybe it's just us trying to wrap our heads around every fucked up situation that comes into our lives. Maybe every emotional breakdown can't be fixed with "God is good" and "God has a plan." Who knows. I definitely don't know. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Anyway, I don't know where I'm going with this post. But I really felt the need to be open about where I'm at with my faith because I have so many posts on this blog related to my beliefs. And the ups and downs with my faith are part of my miscarriage story, and my transplant story, so I can't leave those parts out. </span><br />
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Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-77793262718708377472016-04-25T06:34:00.000-07:002016-04-30T14:17:01.667-07:00On Grief: The Responses<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I was talking with a friend recently about this advice column: </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><a href="https://www.washingtonpost.com/lifestyle/style/carolyn-hax-in-hard-times-standard-rules-of-friendship-dont-necessarily-apply/2016/04/14/262d5ffe-fdd2-11e5-886f-a037dba38301_story.html"><b><span style="font-size: x-large;">In hard times, standard rules of friendship don’t necessarily apply</span></b></a></span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">We've both survived horrible experiences and I think what makes us such great friends is that we both agree on the right way to respond. When I had my miscarriage, she checked in with me constantly, which I really appreciated. I loved it because it made me feel like like I wasn't forgotten, like she heard my silent screams of pain, even though she couldn't be there with me. When something terrible happens, the world doesn't stop spinning. Life goes on, for you and other people. It was so nice that my friend (and many other people) took time out of THEIR day to acknowledge MY sadness. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">And all through my grieving process, my friend has listened to me talk about how disappointed I've been when I never heard from some people to whom I thought I was close. And she agreed with me. We both feel like when someone close to you loses someone or falls ill or has to suffer through life kicking the shit out of them, something should be said. And if not said, something should be done. We both believe that in lieu of searching for "the right words," flowers should be sent, a card should be mailed, a meal should be cooked, or a visit should be made. Actions often speak much louder than words anyway.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Even when it came to people I wasn't close to...if I knew that THEY knew I had a miscarriage...I wanted them to say something. </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">In the first few months following the miscarriage, whenever I was with someone who knew, I expected them to say something. I wanted them to say SOMETHING. And if they didn't, I was hurt. I interpreted their silence as either them not caring about me; them not caring about my child; or them just wanting to pretend like this bad thing never happened. And when you have a miscarriage all kinds of weird shit goes through your mind. Like, "Maybe they're not saying anything, because they don't think my unborn baby was a real child." That was my interpretation.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But you know what's interesting? I didn't always feel slighted. There are people in my life who have not said anything, and I feel fine. Some of Ben's friends, for instance, never addressed it with me. But I'm OK with that because I know they were all really there for him when he needed them. And I love that. Similarly, my best friends didn't reach out to Ben directly. None of us have exchanged numbers I guess LOL</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Then, as Carolyn Hax mentions, there are the people who surprised me. They are the ones who I wasn't counting on to be there, but then they were, in an awesome way.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Reading the comments on Carolyn's advice column, I learned that there are actually so many people who feel just as sad and angry for their friend or family member who is going through crises, but the weight of the situation stuns them into speechlessness. They just can't find the words to say. Then there's the group who want to say something, but are too worried about saying the wrong thing. And then there is the group that feels it's best to not bring up the terrible event, and risk hurting their loved one further.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My crises in life have revealed so much to me about who I am, and what I need from my relationships and what I want to give to the people I am close to. And you've heard this before, that crises can also "show you who your friends are." </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But I don't know if it's that cut and dry anymore, because everyone reacts differently, and I guess there is always a reason behind their reaction.</span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Because of this, I love Carolyn's advice toward the end of her column--lean in to the people who comfort you the way you need to be comforted. And for those who disappoint you...give yourself space and time to decide how you feel them. </span></div>
Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4379857919890584038.post-7009492156217549782016-04-20T12:29:00.000-07:002016-04-30T14:15:55.601-07:00The Pros of NOT Being a Mom <span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Losing a child is devastating. And I don't even know how I got to a point where I'm writing a post on the positives of NOT being a mom. Because I want to be a mom some day. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I </span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">don't want people to read the title of this post and think this is a post about the pros of having a miscarriage. There are no pros to that. There is no silver lining. This is not one of those "everything worked out in the end" posts. Miscarriages are terrible and traumatic and they do not happen for a reason. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">My first attempt at becoming a mom ended a little over six months ago. Shortly after it happened, I figured I would just try to get pregnant again. But I was advised to wait about three months. Then I had a rejection episode in January. I made the decision to go back on birth control so that I could focus on the health of my kidney transplant. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">That decision in January is kind of what has helped me discover some of the things I'm revealing in this post. The first thing being, I'm actually OK with not being someone's mom. And here's why.</span><br />
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<a name='more'></a><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Not being a mom has actually made me better at relationships than before.</b> One thing I've learned from my mom-friends is how difficult it can be to connect with people who don't live in their household, or aren't located along the route to daycare. I have one mom-friend who I can only really see at her house. And another one of my mom-friends told me that get-togethers with friends are few and far between.</span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This year I started my first books and movies discussion club, something I've been wanting to do for a while. And we only meet once a month but those once a month meetings have made me even more committed to seeing my friends from the club in between those meetings. I don't know what it is, but this year I feel that I'm even more present than I've ever been with my friends. And I feel more connected to them too, maybe because many of them came alongside me and supported me while I was going through one of the most traumatic periods in my life. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">I don't know if I would have been able to be there for them in the capacity that I am now while raising a young child. I'm really thankful for how close I've gotten to so many of them. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">The same thing can be said about the bond between my family members, Ben and me. My miscarriage brought us all closer. Now I REALLY can't imagine doing life without my family, or Ben. Ben really is my favorite person to be around and sometimes I catch myself wondering if things would still be like this if our path to parenthood had continued as we'd planned. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span><span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Not being a mom has reminded me of how much freedom I have</b>. This is a pretty common thought that I think all adults have, kids or no kids. Of course, I have my mom-friends who say that they love being parents so much that they don't miss any of the freedoms. And then I have the mom-friends who have basically indicated that they would sell their children if they could for just 45 minutes alone in the bathroom and a shot glass of wine. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Thinking about the two spontaneous vacations I've already taken this year, and the list of adventures I still want to have, I'm not sure I could have made any of it happen with a small child. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">A child-free Punta Cana</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">On a smaller scale, I really enjoy being able to do whatever I want however I want. Little things like going out to eat without having to secure a baby sitter. Doing my 10-hour Oscar movie marathon every year at the movie theater. Binge watching "Scandal" on a Saturday afternoon while folding laundry (or not). Then falling asleep until 6 PM, and waking up to order pizza and drink wine. I love that my schedule revolves around me, and partly Ben, and not nap times or feedings or play dates. Well...it does revolve around nap times and feedings. But the nap times and feedings...are MINE. And the dates "play dates" are with my forever boyfriend. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Spontaneous Chiefs game.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><b>Not being a mom has allowed me to get more done in our new house! </b></span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Raised beds constructed a few weeks ago.</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">This isn't as deep as my other two revelations. But man, one thing I am constantly thinking about is how our house would not look the way it does if we had become parents in February. We bought our house at the end of July, and we had about 5 pieces of solid furniture when we moved in. And about 10 boxes of crap. After that, I had two surgeries, not including my miscarriage, within the first two months of us living there. And when you have surgery, it literally knocks you on your ass. This was not good for us because we were already working within a short time frame to get the baby's room and some of the other rooms set up before I delivered. Well, the sad but true part of not being a mom right now, is that I've had a lot more energy, time and definitely MONEY to devote to setting up our home. We still have a ways to go, but I doubt we would have made this much progress with an infant in tow. </span><br />
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<tr><td class="tr-caption" style="text-align: center;">Living room in transition, after having my miscarriage</td></tr>
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">There might be a mom out there reading this, and thinking<i> "What the hell is this girl talking about? I'm a mom of five and kids under five! I host brunch with 20 girlfriends every Sunday, I binge-watched Daredevil AND all of Game of Thrones two weekends ago, and I outfitted my eight-room McMansion with furniture from Restoration Hardware in less than a month."</i> And you know what? I want to talk to that mom, and I want to drink her lifeblood because she is living the life that I aspire to live when I have children. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">Or maybe I want her to give me the name of her nanny. I don't know. </span><br />
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<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;">But the point is, there was a time when I thought <i>"Great. I'm not going to be a mom. Now what?"</i> And I've been pleasantly surprised by how my attitude has changed in the past six months. In fact, I surprise myself sometimes because every once in a while, I wonder if I could be OK with doing this....this childless life...forever.... I guess we'll see. I don't have any control over what the future brings, but right now, I'm good. </span><br />
<span style="font-family: "arial" , "helvetica" , sans-serif;"><br /></span>Jewelhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02028618085889627395noreply@blogger.com0