June 9th, I went into the dermatology office to get some moles removed and a cyst/nodule thing removed from my neck. I was kind of nervous, but I didn't think it was that big of a deal. After two minutes of being in the office, I was screaming just from the stupid local anesthetic. An hour later I left with an inch of stitches on my neck right where the collar of a shirt is located, and stitches on my waist right under the belt line.
Pictures were taken June 18th , it looked MUCH worse than it did here.
A close-up of the neck
I have had a lot of different pains and annoyance's in my life, but these ones were SOO frustrating. What didn't hurt before was causing me so much irritation and pain. At first, sharp pains would shoot up and down my neck (I think a nerve ending was hit or something). Sleeping was frustrating because a touch of either area hurt and so it took forever finding a comfortable way to sleep. Sean was a gem and bandaged my neck, but the bandage welted my skin and caused a layer of redness and breakdown. So for the last two weeks we've been lotioning the skin breakdown and neosporin'ing the wound. For thirteen days I have been frustrated and annoyed by an inch of irritated, infected, sewn skin.
I feel a little ridiculous for complaining about such a trivial matter.
Getting on with the story, I was laying in bed trying to fall asleep (like I do every night) and I couldn't. Even after 12 hours of work, making dinner, and watching a show with Sean, I still could not fall asleep. Naturally, I logged into facebook and read all the updates about "dad's." A sledge hammer hit my heart.
It is the one day of the year that reminds me I don't have a dad.
Every single year in the past 11 years I have absolutely hated Father's day. I felt the pain in my heart and tossed in bed. There it was again, those darn stitches yelling at me, "Owe!!! Get off!"
The death of my father was a large "stitch" in my life. It was a part of Heavenly Father's plan to lead to a greater healing. The healing of my family. This sentence is loaded. You'd have to understand my family dynamics to fully comprehend the meaning of this statement. My father died so that my family could heal. The pain from his death was unbearable. For the last 11 years, Father's day was just salt in a wound. And though I miss him nearly every day of every year, I know that losing him provided a greater gain.
Maybe next year I will be glad it is father's day. I do have a father. And he is wonderful.
And I know Tara and Andrea wanted pics of my glasses. I have one...
This is a pic taken on my birthday, June 5th. Our family is together and healed. :D
Stitches came out today and sure enough, a large puffy infection. I get to go on antibiotics for the next couple days! But I know I'm on the road to healing and all is well.
The last month has been eventful. After Sean had teased and taunted me about my poor vision, I decided I'd go get an eye exam to prove him wrong. As we were waiting, a salesperson said, "are you interested in glasses or contacts today?"
I promptly replied, "neither. I'm just getting my eyes checked."
After several annoying procedures, they sent me in to see the optometrist. I sat down in a funky looking chair with a weird contraption set in front of my face. Fifteen feet in front of me was letters projected on the wall. Looking through the handy contraption, the doctor kept asking me which slides were blurry or clear. After he was finished he said, "ok, read the letters on the wall."
Showing off, I zipped through every single letter thinking, "C'mon, my eyes are perfect. I can see just fine." Then the doctor pulled the contraption away from my face and asked me to read the letters again. My jaw dropped. I literally could barely report the first line. Again, the contraption was set in front of my face and I could see perfectly.
I asked with a disappointed voice, "does this mean I need glasses?" The optometrist laughed and said, "only if you want to see the leaves on the trees, faces on people, and be safe when you are driving."
So I picked out my first pair of glasses...and these are the ones I chose.
During the last month I have thoroughly enjoyed seeing everything pristine and clear. I can recognize faces. I can read signs. And the world is beautiful. It has given me two things I continue to think about.
1) It is amazing how so often we believe we can already see "perfectly" when in reality things are skewed and blurry. It is a reminder to me that I need constant correction. And when revision is made, life increases in beauty.
2) I have thought mostly about my nephew, Kody. We learned last month that our three-month-year-old miracle is blind. He has a rare condition called Leber's congenital amaurosis (LCA). His optic nerves do not function. No surgery or glasses will ever help him see. Each time I hold him I feel a strong sense of gratitude that I have the ability to see. I am so grateful that I have functioning eyes to see and ears to hear.
However, even without eyes to see, blind people can still do extraordinary things. More extraordinary then people with perfect vision.
I love the story of Erik Weihenmayer. He is a man who went blind at the age of 13, but chose to triumph in his loss. Today, he is one of only 100 to climb the seven tallest peaks in the world including Mt. Everest. 1 in 10 people who attempt to climb Mt. Everest die. If you can imagine, Mt. Everest reaches nearly five and a half miles (8.85 km) into the sky. Temperatures can get as low as -76 degrees Fahrenheit. And the oxygen levels are 1/3 of what we breathe. Studies have shown that blood oxygen saturations decrease down to 84% at base camp (and that is just the beginning). Once a climber reaches the last leg to the summit, they will breathe over 90 breaths per minute to survive (normal respirations are 12-20 breaths per minute). And yet with all these facts, a man who could only see hope, reached the top.
(I think my blog posts turn out to always explain a type of epiphany that I've had. So I'm sorry if I bore you readers or make you feel like you are receiving a lecture.)
Sean had asked me to marry him. I was thrilled! But there had to be contingents upon accepting his proposal. 1) We'd live in Utah near my family. 2) We'd see Wicked every year of our marriage.
He knew I wasn't joking.
Finally, after 25 months of marriage, he paid me my overdue allowance. We journeyed up to Boise, Idaho to see my favorite musical. I loved watching Sean's face as the show progressed. He'd laugh and he'd smile.
During intermission I asked him if he was enjoying the show. He replied, "I've never had my hair stand up on my arms during a play." I smiled and was excited to know he was enjoying himself. He didn't like Lion King, so I was a little worried.
At the end of the musical two very different girls, who happen to become best friends, sing a duet. As the musical continued, I was swept away in a load of memories...
I was sobbing so loud, I couldn't hear her voice...but then familiar music began to play.
"I've heard it said that people come into our lives for a reason."
My sobs simmered as I listened to my best friend sing along with the lyrics.
"Bringing something we must learn and we are lead to those who help us most to grow if we let them, and we help them in return."
We were in the back of her family suburban. Her mom was driving us to the mall to help us pick out prom dresses. I had just discovered my nephew was dying. And to make matters worse, my prom date was dating another girl. And all I could do was cry.
"Well I don't know if I believe that's true."
She held me firmly and carefully sang each word. I felt safe. I felt peace.
"But I know I'm who I am today because I knew you."
But I didn't know for sure if she meant the words towards me. We had been through a lot together. Best friends on and off since 6th grade. She knew me better than the back of her own hand. But did she feel what she sang?
"Like a comet pulled from orbit, as it passes a sun."
I flashed forward to her wedding day. For me, my best friend was getting married. But to her, I was just another friend. I pretended it wasn't a big deal. But after three missed calls from her cell phone, I figured I should probably answer. "Where are you?!" I didn't know she wanted me at the temple after the ceremony. She wanted pictures taken with just me and Pamela, "the triplets."
I sat there and watched her wedding video at the luncheon. Surrounded by her other friends, I didn't feel very important. A picture came on the screen and I smiled. There was a picture of just the three of us in high school.
"Like a stream that meets a boulder, halfway through the wood."
Although she had hundreds of friends from high school, we were the only ones in her wedding video. I thought, "I guess she did care."
"Who can say if I've been changed for the better?"
Flash forward again. Aimee was home from Texas, I was home from college. We laid on her bed like we had so many times in the past. We reminisced of our years together as friends. We laughed and laughed as story after story was told. I wanted to ask her why. Why did she ever care to be my friend? She was popular. Had talent. Was beautiful. But I was just a plain nobody Jane.
"But because I knew you"
A day later, we were sitting in my car in the driveway of her old home. I finally gained the courage and asked her in a solemn voice. "were you really my best friend, or were you just pretending to be nice?"
She looked at me and smiled. "Trish, I never really cared about the madrigals, or about being popular. I always hated trying to be 'perfect' for others. But you and Pamela knew I wasn't perfect and loved me anyway. You were my best friend because life had made you real. You didn't care about money, popularity, and looking perfect. You were just you. And you changed me for the better. Trish, you are my best friend and I love you.
"I have been changed for good."
I began to cry.
I thought about all the other friends who had been so devoted to my life.
During my darkest hours in high school, I had friends who would come over to my house on the weekend and force me to hang out with them. They'd practically dress me. Push me out the door. And take me out for the evening. I never knew why Carly, Candace, Synthia, Rehni, Stacy, and Jess cared so much, but they continued to do it week after week. Nearly every weekend in the next three years, we were always together. They were my only friends in high school. After nine years of friendship, today they still buoy me up.
"It well may be, that we will never meet again in this lifetime."
I thought about my close friends from college. There have been so many that had impacted my life. Memories of my friends kept coming.
Jenny was my very first friend from BYU-I
Jenny introduced me to Kenzi. We were tight. We graduated together.
"So let me say before we part"
Elissa was my first roommate.
"So much of me is made of what I learned from you."
Amber, a good friend and roommate.
"You'll be with me, like a handprint on my heart."
Pacha was more like a big sister, another roommate and college friend.
"And now whatever way our stories end"
Ashley is still a best friend today. We lived together for 9 semesters.
"I know you have re-written mine by being my friend..."
Tara. I love this girl. Another best friend from college.
"Like a ship blown from its mooring by a wind off the sea"
Heather, another adopted sister. She has taught me SO much.
"Like a seed dropped by a skybird in a distant wood."
The Oler girls. Great friends from college.
"Who can say if I've been changed for the better?"
Andrea was my best friend from nursing school. We were ALWAYS together.
"But because I knew you I have been changed for good."
Natalie, another good friend from nursing school.
This girl ALWAYS makes me laugh.
"And just to clear the air, I ask forgiveness, for the things I've done you blame me for..."
Stacy and I were instant best friends.
She was my roommate fall of 2007.
We were pretty much attached at the hip for the rest of college.
"But then, I guess we know there's blame to share."
Sam, another close friend and roommate.
"And none of it seems to matter anymore"
Kayla and Jenny Baker. My adopted sisters.
Vivian, a God-sent friend when I needed one in the end...of nursing school
Sharla and Melissa along with my other close friends.
My close Jr. High friends.
Jamee was Aimee, Pamela, and I's little sister in High school
I don't have a picture, but I also wanted to talk about my friend, Kim, who oriented me at my work. She soon moved into the ICU, so we didn't work together as much anymore. However, I have come to love her so much. She has become another very close friend. I am so glad she came into my life.
Marianne is my newest friend from my ward.
She and Eric babysat Fiona so we could go see Wicked.
She and I continue to become closer friends. I love it.
Friend after friend streamed through my mind. Friends that I have listed here, and more friends else where.
"Because I knew you...I have been changed-for good."
The scene had ended. Starting as a lonely ugly girl in high school, my best friends gave me confidence. And throughout college, God kept adding more to my batch.
And thanks to all my friends, I can honestly say that I have been changed...FOR GOOD.
These are the noises that birthed my frustration... Seven months was WAY overdue!!!
Our entire yard had weeds and grass grown 14 inches tall!
Our mighty kingdom was overthrown by weeds. They murdered the King lawnmower, and began a war between nature and nurture (Darwin would be happy). We, "the survivors," were ready for a fight. After purchasing new artillery from the manufacturers of RC Willey, the battle got bloody. The weeds stood tall and shameless. Again and again, they'd kill the engine (luckily the machine had 129 lives). But with my might of steel and the strength of an ox, I'd force that baby back to life (I'd be a good solider). The mower would chug, and I would puff. The mower would puff, and I would pout. My hands began to blister. Every foot of progress, I had to lift the mower and let it spit out the dead. My thumbs began to bleed (I told you it was bloody).
And just when I ran out of strength, the reinforcements arrived...(AKA Sean)
Sean came out to finish the battle. Patches of enemies remained, but they were no match for the mean, red, chopping machine (both Sean and mower). I stayed behind enemy lines to document yet another adventure of our lives.
It is not the greatest lookin' back yard, but it works. And hey, it's no longer a jungle.
The parable of this post...
Restart, try, restart, try, and restart again...do your best and He'll help you finish the rest.
I received a phone call at 0530 saying "don't come into work." There was last minute changes and they didn't need me for the day. I cheered and clapped and crawled back into bed.
In the mean while a man who had a warrant for arrest and no legal driver's license since 2005, decided it was a good idea to park his car on the emergency lane of the freeway. Sean was driving to work and pulled into the right lane to get off the exit. Suddenly a patch of slush manipulated his car toward the cement wall. Taping the breaks and steering the wheel, Sean finally gained control. However, by fate or destiny or by misfortune, Sean hit the back of a parked Deville.
I heard Sean's voice over the phone and I knew immediately that he had been in an accident. His voice trembled, I told him to call 911 and I'd be on my way.
As Sean was filling out the paperwork in the Sentra, I was told to move my car in front of the tow truck. The cop asked me to roll down my window and wait for his signal. Obeying instructions I rolled down the window and was looking for an opportunity to get back into the freeway lane and pull in front of the tow truck. A lovely trucker decided to drive right next to the accident and instantly I was soaked. The trucker had sprayed the inside of our car with slushy freeway muck.
Slush was found in my hair and down my neck. My scrubs were damp and the poor interior of the Sentra became a splash zone. I thought to myself, "somewhere, someone hates me."
My first car-love had been hit and both airbags were deployed. The tow-truck personnel said there was little to no hope of a full recovery. I was cold and wet and frustrated.
Needless to say, I felt like this...
And I started acting like Cruella De Vil. I was angry and blaming everyone else. If I wouldn't have been so stupid and sold the car last week, we wouldn't have been in this predicament. Sean was blamed for the accident. He got a ticket for "reckless driving in poor weather conditions." Why did God allow this to happen? I was just set apart as a temple ordinance worker, and this was the thanks I received? A totaled car and no way to get to the temple when Sean worked. Our lawn mower just broke, and the lawn looks like a jungle. We still have to register the Sentra and we owe money for taxes. Thoughts and steam circulated my mind as I shivered and pondered on all the repercussions of the accident.
In the mean while Sean looked like this.
I said, "you were just in an accident, look like it." ....so he gave me this.
He was faking it.
We immediately went to the Emergency Room to make sure Sean hadn't slipped a disc or fractured a rib. He joked with the nurses and smiled at every employee. I frowned, murmured, and cried. While Sean was away in radiology, my mother called me. She said, "Anne, what a wonderful blessing Sean is safe. So what if you lose a car? Or if you are further in debt? It is life. But you still have each other and no one is hurt." I knew she was right. Driving 60 miles an hour and hitting a parked car should have left Sean with abrasions. Not one bruise was found on his body. As she continued to speak her words of comfort, my mind flashed two memories.
1) During my summer break four years ago, I was hunting for a good car. Nothing seemed to be the right price. And nothing seemed to be dependable. Months of searching led me to nowhere. I only had one weekend left to purchase a car for nursing school before I was to return to BYUI. I found a car I wanted. It was perfect. In budget. Leather seats. Power windows. However, it had awful crash ratings. My mom wanted to check one more dealership before we made the plunge. There she was. Dimple. My very first car. She was 2,500$ over the budget, but my mom wanted me to be safe. Little did I know that four years down the road, it may have possibly saved my husband's life.
2) A parable I learned from BYUI immediately popped into my head.
"There was once a wise Chinese man who had one son, one horse, and one acre of ground on which he made his living. One day his son went out to feed the horse and left the gate open and the horse ran away. All of the man’s friends and neighbors came to him and said, “Oh that’s too bad. You’ve lost your only horse. How will you make your living?” The wise Chinese man just said “I don’t know if that’s bad or that’s good.” But they insisted it was bad. A few days later, the horse got thirsty and came back to the corral bringing 9 other wild horses with him. Now all his friends came over and said “Oh, isn’t that good. You’ve got 10 horses.” The wise Chinese man said “I don’t know if that’s bad or good.” And they insisted it was good.
A few days later, the wise Chinese man’s son went out to break one of the wild horses. In the process, the horsed reared up and came down, severely breaking the son’s leg. This time all the neighbors came over and said “Oh, that’s too bad. That’s your only son. What will you do?” And again the wise Chinese man said “I don’t know if that’s bad or good.” And they insisted it was bad.
A short time later, war broke out in the country. The government came through and gathered up all the able-bodied young men and marched them off to war where they were all killed."
What started out as a "bad circumstance" ended up saving a father's son. In reality, it is not for us to decide what is "good" and "bad." Instead we must have faith and trust that God has a plan. It makes me think of a song that says, "it's alright, it's alright, all-right. [He] moves in mysterious ways."
As the day progressed, things kept getting worse. We discovered for some reason, we weren't carriers of collision insurance. Geico was only going to pay off what we owed and not reimburse us for it's value. It meant at least another 1,500$ down the drain.
It is hard to stay positive. I don't know how all of this is going to end. But it was a crappy, slushy, and expensive day. And this week has been entirely one of the worst in awhile. I'm still not pregnant, lost a mound of money and a car, and I'm ever more depressed.
While complaining to my mom, she asked a profound question. "Anne, when something bad happens why do you always blame God?"
She was right. I do. My face was washed in tears and immediately I felt ashamed. Yes, the situation was unfair. However, I miraculously didn't have to go to work and Sean was safe. If anything, the situation may have been much worse. God had protected my husband.
Sean continued his cheery attitude. When we returned from the ER, Sean served me a hot breakfast in bed. He immediately made phone calls and returned to his responsibilities. I, on the other hand, was still acting like a spoiled little brat. While people across the nation and world were losing loved ones, and homes, I was complaining about some money and a car. So the bitter and frustrated me is not who I want to be. But I know God will continue to teach me to be the faithful women He knows I can be.
One quote sums up this post...
"Don't miss the donut by looking through the hole."
