Many who know me know that about a year and a half ago my life was spiraling rapidly out of my control. Its been suspected that I've been dealing with depression for over a decade but I tipped down that particular slope pretty hard last year with the addition of bouts of anxiety that had begun about a year and a half before that (give or take). I tried so hard, oh so very very hard, to swing back up but the track was gone. It hadn't moved, I hadn't changed my own direction, it had completely fallen apart. Disintegrated. I had an idea of what direction I should be heading but was not able to get there on my own. My father tried his absolute best, and I tried moving in faith, but I kept hitting up against barrier after barrier.
By May I knew I needed some serious outside help. I talked to my bishop and was able to meet with a therapist through LDS Family Services. I am so grateful I had that opportunity! It helped me hold on in ways I didn't know I could anymore, just knowing that in a few days I'd have my next appointment. My therapist went above and beyond too, staying longer and giving me the time I needed to be able to talk. One of the things she jumped on right away was that work is a big source of stress for me and she strongly recommended I look for a new job. She even put me in touch with incredible resources to get a baseline and start looking. I even started considering going back to school for a Bachelor's degree (I have an Associates as a paralegal).
It was in this timeframe though that my brain really started coming unhinged. Remember my earlier post where I talked about how my brain never stops? My trains of thought are frequent, rapid and never-ending and they started looping like mad on these topics. I couldn't even begin to find the brakes let alone pull them, or at least get onto a different track. In my moment of greatest desperation I did what I have done in the past--I called my dad and asked for a Priesthood Blessing. I find it a great source of comfort that my father is a worthy Melchizedek Priesthood holder, and have often turned to him and to my Heavenly Father in times of need, and I felt in urgent need at that time.
I was in Springville, UT at that particular moment and called dad up to ask if he'd be available in about 45 minutes (the time it would take to get to his house). When he responded affirmatively I requested the blessing and we talked for a moment. After getting off the phone with him, while proceeding north towards Salt Lake County, I offered one of the most fervent, heartfelt, sincere prayers with real intent I've ever prayed. I spoke to the Lord of my confusion, my absolute desire to do His will without any idea of what it was. I thanked Him for all of my options but prayed so hard to know what the right one was. Please, Lord, just let me know which way to go and I will! Remembering, though, that all things are according to the Lord's will. He knows exactly who I am and what I need to do to return to Him, so let all things be according to His infinite knowledge and will.
.
..
...
The answer wasn't what I expected, but it was absolutely the one that I needed. Still need, truth be told. To paraphrase, I was told to be patient in my current circumstances. To remain where I'm at, in other words, and the Lord will let me know where to go when it's time to change. He reminded me to consider the lilies, how he still cares for them so much more will He care for me. There were other things contained in that blessing, but this works for now. I find I am grateful to this day that the response He gave was so clear, and still find comfort in that tender mercy.
I knew peace in that moment. I didn't need to run around and find new situations to learn from but rather continue learning what the Lord would have be learn in this moment, in this place and time.
A few months after that I began to wonder, to worry that I'd missed something. The Lord reminded me very clearly that fear and anxiety are the enemy of faith. They rob faith, steal it away until fear is all that is left. Fear, doubt, discouragement, hopelessness. Those are not His domain, but that of another. I was calmed and pressed forward to the best of my abilities.
A few months after that I was reminded again. The Lord would make it clear when it was time for a change. I was still where He intended me to be to learn what I needed to learn. Need to learn.
Tonight I confess I began to get, not worried, but rather a little impatient. I remembered those past blessings and promptings but began with a bit of a prayer of frustration. Lord, I have faith that you'll let me know what direction to go when it's time for a change, but could you please let me know when that will be? It's so hard when I keep screwing up. When will I be approaching that intersection? How much farther until the turn signal?
I went on like that for a few minutes before it came to me. I was, in essence, saying "Lord, I trust in your timetable, but not really. Just let me take a peek at it, ok? Just to make sure?".
I chuckled a bit at myself in that moment. He let me know exactly what I was doing, and gave me the opportunity to repent. I am extremely grateful for that as well.
I will trust in the Lord and His timing.
"There is no fear in love; but perfect love casteth out fear: because fear hath torment. He that feareth is not made perfect in love.
"We love him, because he first loved us."
1 John 4:18-19
He that feareth is not made perfect in love. It is in Christ's perfect love that we are perfected. May I ever so strive for His love, and reach to Him, rather than let fear tear me apart. I choose to love Him--after all, He already loved me first!
Monday, October 31, 2016
Tuesday, August 9, 2016
Finding Me - Finding Out pt Three
I think this will be the last "finding out" post. The four items in the last two posts and the three items from today's post are by no means comprehensive of all that has gone on but it is at least an introduction. If you want to more, please don't be afraid to ask! Particularly if you are genuinely interested in learning more about Autism and how it affects me.
5. One of the two biggest areas that are affected by Autism in any autist's life is sensory processing. Due to our unique neurological setup we are hypersensitive to many sensory inputs and hypo-sensitive to others. Each person's sensory sensitivities is unique to them but we all have them, at least as far as I've seen. While it is possible for someone to experience a Sensory Processing Disorder without being autistic, there are far more instances of co-morbidity (experiencing both together). It's like depression and anxiety-yes you can have them separately but they are extremely likely to occur together.
For those things that we are hypo-sensitive to, sometimes sound, pain, illness, perhaps temperature or taste (again this depends on the individual!!) it's as if those things either don't exist or we have to exert higher amounts of attention to discern these inputs and variations in them. If we are really focused on something then we may temporarily be hypo-sensitive to a great number of external and internal stimuli depending on the amount of energy we are putting into the task at hand.
Far, far more common though is hypersensitivity. Being more sensitive to stimuli than normal. Sights, sounds, lights, illness, pain, temperatures, textures, tastes, humidity, movement, touch, volumes, colors, the list goes on. Many of these stimuli can combine all at the same time and either command a seemingly inordinate amount of our attention or alternately they can outright overwhelm us. If you're looking for the source of most meltdowns, look at the sensory environment! There's a reason why many of us prefer doing things at night, and it's not just because we are often prone to insomnia. It's the fact that the sensory input is drastically reduced during the night hours. Less light, fewer people, lower temperatures, fewer people, less traffic, did I mention fewer people? People are amazingly diverse sources of sights, sounds, touch, movement, volumes and more!
Confusing, right? That the things that some are hypo-sensitive to are the same things that others are hypersensitive to? There's a reason why many people say that "when you've met one person with autism you've met one person with autism".
Preceding my own diagnosis I had begun to be increasingly sensitive to external and internal stimuli. It's as if my nerve-endings, already only thinly covered and hypersensitive, have had their protective sheaths removed and cannot filter out anything anymore, or at least very little. For sights, lights and colors it is not uncommon for me to have to put on sunglasses or turn off the lights at home or the office. For movement I've always prefered sitting with my back against the wall, now it's uncommon for me to be comfortable anywhere without a wall or other shielding structure behind me (I absolutely hate getting startled! It is extremely uncomfortable!!). Again blocking out light helps, but otherwise I have to acknowledge and mentally categorize and predict movement before I can move my thoughts and attention elsewhere.
Getting sick is a whole new experience now. I am much more incapacitated by fever and illness than I ever used to be and have an immensely difficult time working through associated joint pain and headaches. I have become much more sensitive to temperature, the texture of my clothing and bedding, even the degree to which my pillow is fluffed. Migraines were already nightmares, now I cannot function at all with one. I can't even look at a cell phone or tv screen for more than a moment with a migraine, let alone drive.
Sound, though, is the absolute hardest to deal with. Pick up your tv remote and turn on a show. Turn up the volume. Turn it up again. One more time. Now turn on your computer and play some music. OK, now open an app on your phone with the app's music playing. Then start a conversation with a friend. Two friends. Try to have a work meeting through that noise. Add all of this to the middle of a mall, or movie theatre, or even a busy office environment. Have people running back and forth to the copier and the water cooler behind you and in front of you and to your left and right. You might start to get a sense of what it's like. It's constant for those of us sensitive to sound, it can be all that we are able to do to sit still with too much noise. Sometimes we can't even do that--I've had to start carrying headphones with me everywhere I go. Often if you can at least control how much sound comes in it drastically reduces the impact of other external stimuli. It really, really bugs me now when I forget to bring at least one set of my 3 pairs of headphones with me. Even if they aren't the noise-cancelling headphones I can use the others to block some noise or play music or a movie to cover other unpredictable or intrusive sounds with something I know well and don't have to worry about.
6. The other big thing, to some the biggest thing, that Autism impacts is social interactions and understanding. Things that society at large takes absolutely for granted-the ability to interact with other members of the human race without having to examine and interpret every word, tone, verbal and visual signal individually and as a whole lest one inadvertently commit one of thousands of unspoken social 'faux pas' that can be attributed to almost any situation. We autists are obsessive observers of humanity-we have to be in order to learn how everyone else does things in the event that we need to do them to. This is a big part of the reason that change affects us more than others, and in many instances so dramatically--it means having to learn a whole new set of rules or codes or actions to fit the new situation. I realize this is over-simplified, but I'm still new to trying to describe this type of thing. Here's one analogy that I've found useful so far though:
Imagine that you are driving down a street you've driven down many times before. You come to an intersection and as you approach you see that the light is green. What do you do? You proceed.
The light is yellow. What do you do? That depends, you either go through or slow down and prepare to stop, based on when the light turned yellow. Were you watching? Do you know when that was compared to your relative position and speed? What are the cars in front of and next to you doing?
The light is red. What do you do? Fortunately this one is easier. You stop.
Now imagine that the light turns purple. What do you do?
Oh crap. I've never seen a purple light before. What in the world does that mean? Is it broken? Is it new? What the heck am I supposed to do with this? Do I pull over until I can safely observe how other people handle this? Crap, I'm in the middle lane and there are cars on both sides. Aargh!
Now picture the light going pink. Or blue. Orange polka-dot, zebra stripe, leopard spot.
Social situations can be a lot like this--it again takes an enormous amount of energy and attention to be able to seem "normal" in society, in a culture that was not built to accomodate us. Truth be told we have to find ways to accommodate others as much as and more than they do us in order for us to seem like everyone else or help them do what they need to do on their end. Perhaps more on that another time. Suffice it to say that much like with sensory sensitivity, I am much more aware of my social struggles and just how much they impact absolutely every aspect of my life, not just at work.
7. All these difficulties aside, I will close with one of the bigger positive things in my life since diagnosis--I get fewer migraines! YAY!! So many of my migraines stemmed from my decades of sensory and social challenges. Now that I can go back and see how my autism has impacted everything I've said and done as well as every relationship I've ever had I am better able to see what I can and cannot have affected as a result. I can forgive myself for the things I could not have done any better at and I see the things that I need to continue to strive to improve on. I get why I'm me, the way I am, and I know that I'm actually a pretty awesome person! Does this mean I now have a lot of friends and am super popular? Of course not! There's a reason why someone once said of me that I'm the friendliest person without a friend that they've ever known. That being said, perhaps now I'll be able to form some more lasting friendships and be able to like myself more regardless of whatever else happens.
Next Post: Finding Me - Fear is the Enemy of Faith
Previous Post: Finding Me - Finding Out pt Two
5. One of the two biggest areas that are affected by Autism in any autist's life is sensory processing. Due to our unique neurological setup we are hypersensitive to many sensory inputs and hypo-sensitive to others. Each person's sensory sensitivities is unique to them but we all have them, at least as far as I've seen. While it is possible for someone to experience a Sensory Processing Disorder without being autistic, there are far more instances of co-morbidity (experiencing both together). It's like depression and anxiety-yes you can have them separately but they are extremely likely to occur together.
For those things that we are hypo-sensitive to, sometimes sound, pain, illness, perhaps temperature or taste (again this depends on the individual!!) it's as if those things either don't exist or we have to exert higher amounts of attention to discern these inputs and variations in them. If we are really focused on something then we may temporarily be hypo-sensitive to a great number of external and internal stimuli depending on the amount of energy we are putting into the task at hand.
Far, far more common though is hypersensitivity. Being more sensitive to stimuli than normal. Sights, sounds, lights, illness, pain, temperatures, textures, tastes, humidity, movement, touch, volumes, colors, the list goes on. Many of these stimuli can combine all at the same time and either command a seemingly inordinate amount of our attention or alternately they can outright overwhelm us. If you're looking for the source of most meltdowns, look at the sensory environment! There's a reason why many of us prefer doing things at night, and it's not just because we are often prone to insomnia. It's the fact that the sensory input is drastically reduced during the night hours. Less light, fewer people, lower temperatures, fewer people, less traffic, did I mention fewer people? People are amazingly diverse sources of sights, sounds, touch, movement, volumes and more!
Confusing, right? That the things that some are hypo-sensitive to are the same things that others are hypersensitive to? There's a reason why many people say that "when you've met one person with autism you've met one person with autism".
Preceding my own diagnosis I had begun to be increasingly sensitive to external and internal stimuli. It's as if my nerve-endings, already only thinly covered and hypersensitive, have had their protective sheaths removed and cannot filter out anything anymore, or at least very little. For sights, lights and colors it is not uncommon for me to have to put on sunglasses or turn off the lights at home or the office. For movement I've always prefered sitting with my back against the wall, now it's uncommon for me to be comfortable anywhere without a wall or other shielding structure behind me (I absolutely hate getting startled! It is extremely uncomfortable!!). Again blocking out light helps, but otherwise I have to acknowledge and mentally categorize and predict movement before I can move my thoughts and attention elsewhere.
Getting sick is a whole new experience now. I am much more incapacitated by fever and illness than I ever used to be and have an immensely difficult time working through associated joint pain and headaches. I have become much more sensitive to temperature, the texture of my clothing and bedding, even the degree to which my pillow is fluffed. Migraines were already nightmares, now I cannot function at all with one. I can't even look at a cell phone or tv screen for more than a moment with a migraine, let alone drive.
Sound, though, is the absolute hardest to deal with. Pick up your tv remote and turn on a show. Turn up the volume. Turn it up again. One more time. Now turn on your computer and play some music. OK, now open an app on your phone with the app's music playing. Then start a conversation with a friend. Two friends. Try to have a work meeting through that noise. Add all of this to the middle of a mall, or movie theatre, or even a busy office environment. Have people running back and forth to the copier and the water cooler behind you and in front of you and to your left and right. You might start to get a sense of what it's like. It's constant for those of us sensitive to sound, it can be all that we are able to do to sit still with too much noise. Sometimes we can't even do that--I've had to start carrying headphones with me everywhere I go. Often if you can at least control how much sound comes in it drastically reduces the impact of other external stimuli. It really, really bugs me now when I forget to bring at least one set of my 3 pairs of headphones with me. Even if they aren't the noise-cancelling headphones I can use the others to block some noise or play music or a movie to cover other unpredictable or intrusive sounds with something I know well and don't have to worry about.
6. The other big thing, to some the biggest thing, that Autism impacts is social interactions and understanding. Things that society at large takes absolutely for granted-the ability to interact with other members of the human race without having to examine and interpret every word, tone, verbal and visual signal individually and as a whole lest one inadvertently commit one of thousands of unspoken social 'faux pas' that can be attributed to almost any situation. We autists are obsessive observers of humanity-we have to be in order to learn how everyone else does things in the event that we need to do them to. This is a big part of the reason that change affects us more than others, and in many instances so dramatically--it means having to learn a whole new set of rules or codes or actions to fit the new situation. I realize this is over-simplified, but I'm still new to trying to describe this type of thing. Here's one analogy that I've found useful so far though:
Imagine that you are driving down a street you've driven down many times before. You come to an intersection and as you approach you see that the light is green. What do you do? You proceed.
The light is yellow. What do you do? That depends, you either go through or slow down and prepare to stop, based on when the light turned yellow. Were you watching? Do you know when that was compared to your relative position and speed? What are the cars in front of and next to you doing?
The light is red. What do you do? Fortunately this one is easier. You stop.
Now imagine that the light turns purple. What do you do?
Oh crap. I've never seen a purple light before. What in the world does that mean? Is it broken? Is it new? What the heck am I supposed to do with this? Do I pull over until I can safely observe how other people handle this? Crap, I'm in the middle lane and there are cars on both sides. Aargh!
Now picture the light going pink. Or blue. Orange polka-dot, zebra stripe, leopard spot.
Social situations can be a lot like this--it again takes an enormous amount of energy and attention to be able to seem "normal" in society, in a culture that was not built to accomodate us. Truth be told we have to find ways to accommodate others as much as and more than they do us in order for us to seem like everyone else or help them do what they need to do on their end. Perhaps more on that another time. Suffice it to say that much like with sensory sensitivity, I am much more aware of my social struggles and just how much they impact absolutely every aspect of my life, not just at work.
7. All these difficulties aside, I will close with one of the bigger positive things in my life since diagnosis--I get fewer migraines! YAY!! So many of my migraines stemmed from my decades of sensory and social challenges. Now that I can go back and see how my autism has impacted everything I've said and done as well as every relationship I've ever had I am better able to see what I can and cannot have affected as a result. I can forgive myself for the things I could not have done any better at and I see the things that I need to continue to strive to improve on. I get why I'm me, the way I am, and I know that I'm actually a pretty awesome person! Does this mean I now have a lot of friends and am super popular? Of course not! There's a reason why someone once said of me that I'm the friendliest person without a friend that they've ever known. That being said, perhaps now I'll be able to form some more lasting friendships and be able to like myself more regardless of whatever else happens.
Next Post: Finding Me - Fear is the Enemy of Faith
Previous Post: Finding Me - Finding Out pt Two
Wednesday, August 3, 2016
Finding Me - Finding Out pt Two
On with the list of realizations and experiences!
3. Autism research, ie online searching in my case, is about 85-90% addressed to the parents of autistic children. Very little information is written for adults on the spectrum and only a handful of that is written by autistic individuals. Frustrating. One of the most prominent sources of information about autism is produced/sponsored by the organization Autism Speaks.
I really, really, really can't stand Autism Speaks. I cringe whenever I see articles listed as being on their website. I outright avoid it and have blocked it on facebook.
In fact, the vast majority of adults I've read that are autistic are absolutely against the organization, some vehemently so.
Autism Walks sponsored by Autism Speaks are actually protested against in person by autistics-the very people they claim to support.
April is an extremely difficult month for a lot of people on the autism spectrum--some even experience extreme meltdowns and anxiety at the sight of the puzzle piece, or banners saying "Light It Up Blue". While most of us don't have this strong a reaction, I understand it. This has nothing to do with more people being aware of autism, it has to do with the absolute fear-mongering poison produced by Autism Speaks that paints autism as an "epidemic", something like H1N1 or the Zika virus (the reason more of us are diagnosed is because the tests are finally both more accurate and being used!). It has to do with the fact that with the millions of donations received by Autism Speaks, only 4% goes to actually helping autistic people. A ton of their money goes into finding a "cure" and spreading the culture of fear and ableism surrounding public perception of autism, much of which they themselves perpetuated in the first place.
I will say this here and now, Autism is an effect of the way our brains are wired--no pill or shot or shock therapy or bleach enema will ever be able to rewire our neural anatomy!! Autism also does not end at childhood--most of us have figured one or two ways on how to function enough in society that we seem to 'disappear'. We still look odd and get things wrong sometimes (or often), but it is blamed on something else, like eccentricity or sheer rudeness. We're still here, folks! You'll really find that out if you're around when our support system fails or no longer meets our current/evolving needs.
Ok, off my soap box. For now.
4. It hurt a lot when I heard about the reactions of a few members of my family. I love each and every one of them so desperately--I am not afraid to say that I would be absolutely devastated if anything happened to any one of them, and would even at this moment do anything I could to support any of them no matter time of day! I know that growing up with me was very difficult for all of us, and that I was not really a nice sister to be around, but I have fought so hard over the last 14 years to change. I have left so much anger and pain and resentment behind me to be a better person, to be a better sister and daughter. Has it always worked?
Of course not. Family wounds aren't like scratches. You can't just put on some antibiotic and a bandaid and expect everything to heal cleanly. Family wounds hurt deep and leave scars, some of which are impossible to overcome without help. I still have one or two I'm working through, even after 14 years of working on them. I know for a fact that there are some still around that I caused/contributed to in my family members and it hurts very, very deeply in my heart to know that I have brought pain and anger to my family.
It hurt that some would not believe that I am autistic until I was officially diagnosed due to past experiences with me, not out of any fear of the possibility of a loved one being autistic.
It hurt to find out just how annoyed and sometimes angry some still get with me and I frequently don't even know when or why. How can I fix anything or try to prevent it if I don't even get the opportunity to know what it is I'm doing wrong? No, I don't want to dredge anything up, and I don't want to rock whatever equilibrium exists between us now, just munch on this and if you ever want to talk or ask questions you have my number :).
I am not suggesting that I am innocent in all of this either, not by any stretch. Yes autism makes it harder, but that doesn't mean that I can just stretch back and make everyone dance to my tune--I am still here on this earth to do my best! The Lord knows what I need to learn to get back to Him and He is the one who knew that there are lessons I will learn by being autistic that I could not learn otherwise, and I trust him! More on that in a future post. Suffice it to say that I own what I do and have done wrong, and that I will do everything in my power to make amends, because I love you!
One thing I will not own though is that which lies between others and the Lord, those thoughts and words and actions that are not in tune with the gospel that come from continued anger and resentment. The ball is not in my court on that one, though I will do anything within my power to help them make the basket.
I will say though that I love the reaction I got from Mom, my brothers and my sister-in-law. Instant acceptance from all four and support in so many different ways from them and from my Dad. The growing appreciation and acceptance from at least one or two sisters has also been very warmly received, and my relationship with my autistic niece has never been better. Thanks, you guys rock!
Next Post: Finding Me - Finding Out pt Three
Last Post: Finding Me - Finding Out pt One
3. Autism research, ie online searching in my case, is about 85-90% addressed to the parents of autistic children. Very little information is written for adults on the spectrum and only a handful of that is written by autistic individuals. Frustrating. One of the most prominent sources of information about autism is produced/sponsored by the organization Autism Speaks.
I really, really, really can't stand Autism Speaks. I cringe whenever I see articles listed as being on their website. I outright avoid it and have blocked it on facebook.
In fact, the vast majority of adults I've read that are autistic are absolutely against the organization, some vehemently so.
Autism Walks sponsored by Autism Speaks are actually protested against in person by autistics-the very people they claim to support.
April is an extremely difficult month for a lot of people on the autism spectrum--some even experience extreme meltdowns and anxiety at the sight of the puzzle piece, or banners saying "Light It Up Blue". While most of us don't have this strong a reaction, I understand it. This has nothing to do with more people being aware of autism, it has to do with the absolute fear-mongering poison produced by Autism Speaks that paints autism as an "epidemic", something like H1N1 or the Zika virus (the reason more of us are diagnosed is because the tests are finally both more accurate and being used!). It has to do with the fact that with the millions of donations received by Autism Speaks, only 4% goes to actually helping autistic people. A ton of their money goes into finding a "cure" and spreading the culture of fear and ableism surrounding public perception of autism, much of which they themselves perpetuated in the first place.
I will say this here and now, Autism is an effect of the way our brains are wired--no pill or shot or shock therapy or bleach enema will ever be able to rewire our neural anatomy!! Autism also does not end at childhood--most of us have figured one or two ways on how to function enough in society that we seem to 'disappear'. We still look odd and get things wrong sometimes (or often), but it is blamed on something else, like eccentricity or sheer rudeness. We're still here, folks! You'll really find that out if you're around when our support system fails or no longer meets our current/evolving needs.
Ok, off my soap box. For now.
4. It hurt a lot when I heard about the reactions of a few members of my family. I love each and every one of them so desperately--I am not afraid to say that I would be absolutely devastated if anything happened to any one of them, and would even at this moment do anything I could to support any of them no matter time of day! I know that growing up with me was very difficult for all of us, and that I was not really a nice sister to be around, but I have fought so hard over the last 14 years to change. I have left so much anger and pain and resentment behind me to be a better person, to be a better sister and daughter. Has it always worked?
Of course not. Family wounds aren't like scratches. You can't just put on some antibiotic and a bandaid and expect everything to heal cleanly. Family wounds hurt deep and leave scars, some of which are impossible to overcome without help. I still have one or two I'm working through, even after 14 years of working on them. I know for a fact that there are some still around that I caused/contributed to in my family members and it hurts very, very deeply in my heart to know that I have brought pain and anger to my family.
It hurt that some would not believe that I am autistic until I was officially diagnosed due to past experiences with me, not out of any fear of the possibility of a loved one being autistic.
It hurt to find out just how annoyed and sometimes angry some still get with me and I frequently don't even know when or why. How can I fix anything or try to prevent it if I don't even get the opportunity to know what it is I'm doing wrong? No, I don't want to dredge anything up, and I don't want to rock whatever equilibrium exists between us now, just munch on this and if you ever want to talk or ask questions you have my number :).
I am not suggesting that I am innocent in all of this either, not by any stretch. Yes autism makes it harder, but that doesn't mean that I can just stretch back and make everyone dance to my tune--I am still here on this earth to do my best! The Lord knows what I need to learn to get back to Him and He is the one who knew that there are lessons I will learn by being autistic that I could not learn otherwise, and I trust him! More on that in a future post. Suffice it to say that I own what I do and have done wrong, and that I will do everything in my power to make amends, because I love you!
One thing I will not own though is that which lies between others and the Lord, those thoughts and words and actions that are not in tune with the gospel that come from continued anger and resentment. The ball is not in my court on that one, though I will do anything within my power to help them make the basket.
I will say though that I love the reaction I got from Mom, my brothers and my sister-in-law. Instant acceptance from all four and support in so many different ways from them and from my Dad. The growing appreciation and acceptance from at least one or two sisters has also been very warmly received, and my relationship with my autistic niece has never been better. Thanks, you guys rock!
Next Post: Finding Me - Finding Out pt Three
Last Post: Finding Me - Finding Out pt One
Sunday, July 31, 2016
Finding Me - Finding Out pt One
It's taken me over a month to start this post. In so many ways I'm still finding out about being autistic, making this by far the most mentally and emotionally complex post I've ever written.
When my father posed Mom's idea about me being autistic I initially gave it only a cursory thought or two. I could see what they meant about me having 'autistic tendencies', but thought they were largely environmental, a bi-product of growing up in a home with a father and two brothers on the spectrum. I didn't really dedicate much thought to it in the moment. Or the next moment. Or the one after that.
The thing was, though, that the moments persisted through the night and into the next day. As each moment passed I found myself thinking about it more and more. It started making some sense, then too much sense, of things that had been hard for me my entire life. Of past moments that had been awkward or inexplicably tough or painful. I was sitting in my bedroom most of that evening, a quiet haven, as the sands of thought became increasingly active, moving slowly at first and then swirling increasingly fast all around my mind. I did not know peace until I knelt in prayer and asked. Asked if I was autistic. The answer, that confirmation that yes, I am autistic, was pure and plain and precious, as personal revelation often is. That moment was simple and sweet, for which I am eternally grateful. Had it come in unsurety or chaos it would have fundamentally altered all that which came thereafter.
Another thing for which I am immensely grateful is that I was on vacation at the time. I had taken two weeks off of work for the sole purpose of, well, doing nothing. I planned no activities, no trips, just did whatever I wanted to in the moment I wanted to do it. This amounted largely to a whole lot of staying at home doing virtually nothing, as I am not really the adventurous type. What it did turn into is the chance to think a lot. By a lot I mean, well, incessantly. One thing about us 'neurodiverse' types, our brains don't really stop. Ever. We are always processing multiple things, both consciously and subconsciously, at all times. Our trains of thought run rapidly along multiple tracks, usually to purpose but other times in circles and squiggles so increasingly frenetic that our brains ultimately can't handle the pressure and react, ie meltdowns and shutdowns. These moments are triggered internally and externally, though without any external pressure the trains usually don't derail by themselves. One example though of a subconscious train of thought would be the idea of writing this post--it has been running nonstop in my brain ever since I hit the "publish" button for the last one, and it has taken this long for the train to pull into this destination.
Anyway, to fully grasp what it has been like to find out I'm autistic would take as long as the experience has been (stretching into 10 months), and frankly I don't have the time to write down every moment, and I know noone else would have the inclination to go through that whole rigmarole. I'll instead focus on a few realizations and experiences I've had since.
1. I remember Mom one time telling me to stop apologizing so much. I used to apologize for so many things, so many moments when something was awkward or weird or painful or I was getting yelled at and didn't know why, or just to appease someone who thought something was my fault even though I had no idea how or what they were talking about. I would apologize for something I said, for something that happened because I was angry, for something that happened because I was sad, even the odd moments when something would happen because I was happy. I got to the point where to me it felt like I was having to apologize for existing, for being such an annoyance/struggle/burden for everyone around me. This is one area where I really related to Dory--if you notice at the beginning of the movie in particular you'll find that she's apologizing for something easily every 3 to 5 minutes due to her own challenges, and boy do I relate!!
I have spent years trying not to apologize so much. Mom might not even remember that conversation as it happened well over a decade ago. It had a pretty profound impact on me though, and I spent years trying not to apologize so much. It got a bit easier once I was out of high school. I learned so many situations just to stay out of so that I wouldn't get into trouble for something, or so that I wouldn't screw up. Now I try to say 'thank you' -- instead of focusing on what I'm not doing well, I thank others for their assistance/patience/time, etc. I still find myself avoiding a lot of those situations though.
2. Reading. Oh my, reading. I used to be an absolutely voracious reader. I consumed books for breakfast, second breakfast, elevensies, luncheon, afternoon snack, dinner, supper, dessert. Practically as soon as I learned how to read I fell in love with the library, and by the time I was in junior high I had taught myself not only to walk while reading (extremely easy) but to ride my bike while reading, not wanting to wait even that five to ten minute ride home from the library to dive into the books I had checked out. I even read by the light of my alarm clock at night, since until I was 16 I shared a room with other siblings and couldn't keep the light on.
Boxcar Children
Baby-Sitters Club
Sweet Valley Series
My Brother the Wind
Anne of Green Gables
Madeline L'Engle
Tamora Pierce
Anne McCaffrey
Robin McKinley
Patricia McKillip
JRR Tolkien
Orson Scott Card
Long before the Harry Potter series was ever released I had easily read hundreds of books and authors. I began buying books instead of borrowing them, eventually reaching a point where it became cheaper to do so as I would forget to return the books and would have to pay even more in fines that the book cost itself. I amassed a huge library. I estimate that at its height my collection was comprised of over 500 books. They just made so much more sense than real life! They let me lose myself in their pages and plotlines, and I was able to fully experience emotion in a way that I never could in my own story, in a way that was so personal and yet one step removed. The characters never disappointed me, the stories never got angry at me, I never had to do anything other than read to be immediately immersed in a world where I personally could do nothing wrong. And such rich worlds!! I learned from these books as well, including what it means to be a good leader and what it means to take accountability for one's actions. So much of what I do and know now is influenced by what I read, and I am grateful I was drawn to books of heroism and gallantry instead of death and destruction ;).
At the time I would have said I just loved reading, loved the books for themselves and nothing else mattered. Only now that I am coming to terms with myself, knowing who I am and why I do the things I do, do I no longer need, and yes I absolutely mean need, books the way I once did. That being said I absolutely still love the works of so many authors, especially Brandon Sanderson and Patrick Rothfuss :)
Next Post: Finding Me - Finding Out pt Two
Previous Post: Finding Me - The Ripple Effect
Sunday, June 19, 2016
Finding Me - The Ripple Effect
The effect of Dad's diagnosis was profound and reverberated deeply down to the foundation of our family. The waves rippled out into not only our immediate relatives but to extended family and even the families of our in-laws. The ripples lightly splashed some and veritably drenched others.
It was a revelatory experience for multiple people, but as I said in the prelude each person's story is their own and I will let them share or not as they will. I will try to limit my own words regarding others to what they themselves have shared openly.
Externally speaking, the effects were most visible to me in my parents. For Mom it answered so many questions, so very many questions about their relationship and marriage. She looked back and was able to see things she had never seen before, including the unique ways Dad showed is deep, deep love for her that had previously been lost in translation. It has been amazing over the last two years to watch her fall in love with him all over again! Everything was seen in a new and refreshing light bringing far more answers than could ever have been had pre-diagnosis.
Dad was reeling from the experience of getting tested and was deeply impacted by the official diagnosis. As I mentioned in my last post he was examining and reexamining so many memories and habits, tendencies and preferences. Nothing had changed but everything was different. There were answers, yes, so many answers, and yet his frame of reference for processing everything had been fundamentally altered. The months prior to his diagnosis had been occupied a lot by discussion of autism and what his results would be, yet by the time his appointment approached he was done. He wanted nothing to do with it. During his test he thought that it was a waste of time, it was obvious that he wasn't autistic. "Really?" The hinted incredulity in the tester's response was the first indication he had that his perception of his answers were not nearly as "normal" as he thought.
The next few days, weeks and months had a profound impact on him and by extension me. On receiving word of his official diagnosis I spent some serious time reflecting on what it meant for him, on thinking back to my own experiences with and knowledge of him, and on my perceptions of his tendencies and 'pecadillos' that made him uniquely him. We went to lunch in those first few days and talked a lot about the whole thing. I was grateful for the chance to spend time with my dad and learn more about him, and he expressed gratitude for the chance to talk about everything and discuss it all, and that I was able to talk about how it had impacted me and discuss what I thought of the whole situation. We spent days and weeks talking about it, and I will forever be grateful for that time we spent together and for just how openly my father discussed his experiences and shared his thoughts.
So many people, the vast majority of people, when they hear that someone is autistic are inclined to immediately jump into stories of their own autistic relatives' or neighbors' children. Alternately they seem to lose the capacity to converse with that person altogether, not knowing what to say or feeling completely out of their depth. I want to say right now that you already know more autistic people than you think. While many of the statistics being touted today regarding autism refer to children, guess what! Those children grow to be adults. Those adults are still autistic, though some of us "pass" for "normal" more than others. We may have different social cues than others but we are still out there, and you already talk to us and work with us on a regular basis. About one in every 60 or so of the people you meet in Utah are autistic. People, not just children. Anyways, moving on.
During the time prior to my dad's diagnosis he was called once again as Gospel Doctrine teacher in our ward. While he is an amazing teacher, it left quite a few people in our ward puzzled and sometimes ... indignant? Is that the right word? He had been virtually inactive for several years prior to the calling, and so many people had no idea why or thought that it was inappropriate that he should be called to teach a class on doctrines that he hadn't been seen to be following by attending church, etc. I will say right now that he has one of the strongest testimonies of anyone I know, and he did not lose it during that time!
My dad finally saw fit to let the ward know about his diagnosis during a fast and testimony meeting, after which while it answered many questions in the ward it changed how people interacted with him. While it mostly seems to have resulted in greater patience, a good thing, it has had one disheartening effect--people don't really talk to him anymore. He used to gave amazing conversations with ward members after his Gospel Doctrine lessons when they'd discuss the lesson he'd taught, or when they'd seek his (amazingly insightful!!) perspective on struggles they were facing in their own lives or with various family members. He has such great love for the gospel and such a great perspective on the scriptures! I never see him more passionate and tuned in than when we discuss gospel principles and how we apply them in our lives.
Moving on to the rest of the family, as I said each person's story is their own. Within a year and a half of my dad's diagnosis the younger of my two brothers, three of my nephews and one of my nieces had also received official autism diagnoses, with another nephew likely. Several adults in our family are now self-diagnosed but have chosen for various reasons of their own to not seek official testing. As to the family-diagnosed part, it spreads up and down on both sides of the family and into the family of our in-laws. I will not mention names or relationships here, though, as that is not part of my story or any of my business to share. There is one exception, and that is to mention that in discussing whether or not one particular member of my family is autistic, Mom said "well if [they are], then Deborah definitely is".
While initially I could see why she had say that, I disagreed politely and moved on with my day. The thought would occasionally (and by occasionally I really mean all-consumingly) pop into my mind though, and I decided to pray about it the next day. The Lord very clearly said, paraphrasing here, 'why yes, yes you are'.
Next Installment: Finding Me - Finding Out
Previous Installment: Finding Me - Nothing's Changed but Everything's Different
It was a revelatory experience for multiple people, but as I said in the prelude each person's story is their own and I will let them share or not as they will. I will try to limit my own words regarding others to what they themselves have shared openly.
Externally speaking, the effects were most visible to me in my parents. For Mom it answered so many questions, so very many questions about their relationship and marriage. She looked back and was able to see things she had never seen before, including the unique ways Dad showed is deep, deep love for her that had previously been lost in translation. It has been amazing over the last two years to watch her fall in love with him all over again! Everything was seen in a new and refreshing light bringing far more answers than could ever have been had pre-diagnosis.
Dad was reeling from the experience of getting tested and was deeply impacted by the official diagnosis. As I mentioned in my last post he was examining and reexamining so many memories and habits, tendencies and preferences. Nothing had changed but everything was different. There were answers, yes, so many answers, and yet his frame of reference for processing everything had been fundamentally altered. The months prior to his diagnosis had been occupied a lot by discussion of autism and what his results would be, yet by the time his appointment approached he was done. He wanted nothing to do with it. During his test he thought that it was a waste of time, it was obvious that he wasn't autistic. "Really?" The hinted incredulity in the tester's response was the first indication he had that his perception of his answers were not nearly as "normal" as he thought.
The next few days, weeks and months had a profound impact on him and by extension me. On receiving word of his official diagnosis I spent some serious time reflecting on what it meant for him, on thinking back to my own experiences with and knowledge of him, and on my perceptions of his tendencies and 'pecadillos' that made him uniquely him. We went to lunch in those first few days and talked a lot about the whole thing. I was grateful for the chance to spend time with my dad and learn more about him, and he expressed gratitude for the chance to talk about everything and discuss it all, and that I was able to talk about how it had impacted me and discuss what I thought of the whole situation. We spent days and weeks talking about it, and I will forever be grateful for that time we spent together and for just how openly my father discussed his experiences and shared his thoughts.
So many people, the vast majority of people, when they hear that someone is autistic are inclined to immediately jump into stories of their own autistic relatives' or neighbors' children. Alternately they seem to lose the capacity to converse with that person altogether, not knowing what to say or feeling completely out of their depth. I want to say right now that you already know more autistic people than you think. While many of the statistics being touted today regarding autism refer to children, guess what! Those children grow to be adults. Those adults are still autistic, though some of us "pass" for "normal" more than others. We may have different social cues than others but we are still out there, and you already talk to us and work with us on a regular basis. About one in every 60 or so of the people you meet in Utah are autistic. People, not just children. Anyways, moving on.
During the time prior to my dad's diagnosis he was called once again as Gospel Doctrine teacher in our ward. While he is an amazing teacher, it left quite a few people in our ward puzzled and sometimes ... indignant? Is that the right word? He had been virtually inactive for several years prior to the calling, and so many people had no idea why or thought that it was inappropriate that he should be called to teach a class on doctrines that he hadn't been seen to be following by attending church, etc. I will say right now that he has one of the strongest testimonies of anyone I know, and he did not lose it during that time!
My dad finally saw fit to let the ward know about his diagnosis during a fast and testimony meeting, after which while it answered many questions in the ward it changed how people interacted with him. While it mostly seems to have resulted in greater patience, a good thing, it has had one disheartening effect--people don't really talk to him anymore. He used to gave amazing conversations with ward members after his Gospel Doctrine lessons when they'd discuss the lesson he'd taught, or when they'd seek his (amazingly insightful!!) perspective on struggles they were facing in their own lives or with various family members. He has such great love for the gospel and such a great perspective on the scriptures! I never see him more passionate and tuned in than when we discuss gospel principles and how we apply them in our lives.
Moving on to the rest of the family, as I said each person's story is their own. Within a year and a half of my dad's diagnosis the younger of my two brothers, three of my nephews and one of my nieces had also received official autism diagnoses, with another nephew likely. Several adults in our family are now self-diagnosed but have chosen for various reasons of their own to not seek official testing. As to the family-diagnosed part, it spreads up and down on both sides of the family and into the family of our in-laws. I will not mention names or relationships here, though, as that is not part of my story or any of my business to share. There is one exception, and that is to mention that in discussing whether or not one particular member of my family is autistic, Mom said "well if [they are], then Deborah definitely is".
While initially I could see why she had say that, I disagreed politely and moved on with my day. The thought would occasionally (and by occasionally I really mean all-consumingly) pop into my mind though, and I decided to pray about it the next day. The Lord very clearly said, paraphrasing here, 'why yes, yes you are'.
Next Installment: Finding Me - Finding Out
Previous Installment: Finding Me - Nothing's Changed but Everything's Different
Saturday, June 18, 2016
Finding Me - Nothing's Changed but Everything's Different
These words were first uttered by my Father in 2014 after he became the second person in my immediate family to be diagnosed as autistic. May 20th is now known as "A-Day" and marks the anniversary of his diagnosis, which launched the official diagnosis of 5 immediate and extended family members as well as the self-diagnosis or "most likely" family-diagnosis of several generations of others.
Our family's history of autism diagnoses actually started about six years ago. While driving down the freeway, my dad found himself listening to a talk show discussion of Asperger's/Autism and realizing that the characteristics being described fit one of my brothers, the older of the two, quite perfectly. As he was struggling at college at the time, my parents ended up with him at his University's Autism Clinic. Once he received his official diagnosis he was able to request and receive accommodation at the University in order to continue his education. While it would be reasonable to think that this event would have been the catalyst in our family, it was not the catalyst that it might have been. Our brother had always been unique, different in multiple ways to the point that when the word of his diagnosis spread it was more of an "oh, that makes sense!" moment rather than a shocking "if he's autistic, I wonder..." moment. While there was some discussion of which side of the family his autism would have come from, it didn't ever go very far though I did agree that it was more obviously through Dad. Yes, Dad, this is the first time I thought you might be autistic, not in 2014. It just never really went anywhere. As far as my brother, he seemed to more or less shrug his shoulders, saying something to the effect of "I always knew I was different, now I know why".
Fast forward to early 2014. My parents were on a date, having gone to dinner together. While talking about my other brother, the younger of the two, as possibly being autistic my mom made a comment that absolutely stunned my father. After referencing several things my brother struggled with, she made the comment to my Dad of "that's like you with school". I kind of get a jaw dropped, deer in the headlights mental visual of my dad's mental state when he tells the story and of the impact that line had on him. It began a cascade of thoughts, emotions and revelations in him that lasted for at least two years, only beginning to really taper off about half a year ago. He was on veritable pins and needles mentally, emotionally and even physically for months until he was officially diagnosed, and even then it did not abate as the diagnosis was reviewed, evaluated, inspected, denied, accepted, rejected, denied, denied, accepted, denied...accepted... ... ...
I admit I'm glad I found out at 31 years old and not at 56, as he was at the time. I have 25 years of memories fewer than he did to examine in a whole new light. I do consider myself blessed that I was able to spend a lot of time talking and, more importantly, listening to Dad through this whole experience. I realized then that I knew a lot more about autism than I thought (heh, little did I know then how intimately I know it!) and it brought me even closer to truly understanding the real him, not just my perception of him formed while growing up as his daughter. He talked a lot about his experiences of looking back through his life and seeing his past in an entirely different way. Nothing had actually happened to change those experiences except how he saw them, yet oh how differently he saw them! Two months later my Mom even created a facebook post centered around the whole concept, heading it the same way I did this post. Nothing's changed but everything's different. We all began to look back at our pasts, seeing just how immense an impact my Dad's previously undiagnosed autism truly had in our parent's marriage and in our own lives.
Next Installment: Finding Me - The Ripple Effect
Previous Installment: Finding Me - Prelude
Our family's history of autism diagnoses actually started about six years ago. While driving down the freeway, my dad found himself listening to a talk show discussion of Asperger's/Autism and realizing that the characteristics being described fit one of my brothers, the older of the two, quite perfectly. As he was struggling at college at the time, my parents ended up with him at his University's Autism Clinic. Once he received his official diagnosis he was able to request and receive accommodation at the University in order to continue his education. While it would be reasonable to think that this event would have been the catalyst in our family, it was not the catalyst that it might have been. Our brother had always been unique, different in multiple ways to the point that when the word of his diagnosis spread it was more of an "oh, that makes sense!" moment rather than a shocking "if he's autistic, I wonder..." moment. While there was some discussion of which side of the family his autism would have come from, it didn't ever go very far though I did agree that it was more obviously through Dad. Yes, Dad, this is the first time I thought you might be autistic, not in 2014. It just never really went anywhere. As far as my brother, he seemed to more or less shrug his shoulders, saying something to the effect of "I always knew I was different, now I know why".
Fast forward to early 2014. My parents were on a date, having gone to dinner together. While talking about my other brother, the younger of the two, as possibly being autistic my mom made a comment that absolutely stunned my father. After referencing several things my brother struggled with, she made the comment to my Dad of "that's like you with school". I kind of get a jaw dropped, deer in the headlights mental visual of my dad's mental state when he tells the story and of the impact that line had on him. It began a cascade of thoughts, emotions and revelations in him that lasted for at least two years, only beginning to really taper off about half a year ago. He was on veritable pins and needles mentally, emotionally and even physically for months until he was officially diagnosed, and even then it did not abate as the diagnosis was reviewed, evaluated, inspected, denied, accepted, rejected, denied, denied, accepted, denied...accepted... ... ...
I admit I'm glad I found out at 31 years old and not at 56, as he was at the time. I have 25 years of memories fewer than he did to examine in a whole new light. I do consider myself blessed that I was able to spend a lot of time talking and, more importantly, listening to Dad through this whole experience. I realized then that I knew a lot more about autism than I thought (heh, little did I know then how intimately I know it!) and it brought me even closer to truly understanding the real him, not just my perception of him formed while growing up as his daughter. He talked a lot about his experiences of looking back through his life and seeing his past in an entirely different way. Nothing had actually happened to change those experiences except how he saw them, yet oh how differently he saw them! Two months later my Mom even created a facebook post centered around the whole concept, heading it the same way I did this post. Nothing's changed but everything's different. We all began to look back at our pasts, seeing just how immense an impact my Dad's previously undiagnosed autism truly had in our parent's marriage and in our own lives.
Next Installment: Finding Me - The Ripple Effect
Previous Installment: Finding Me - Prelude
Friday, June 17, 2016
Finding Me - Prelude
Today I went with a friend to see the movie "Finding Dory", a beautifully made movie about an amazing character with great gifts and one particular big challenge. Seeing Dory go through her challenges reminded me of a few things I want to talk about. While I do not personally struggle with short-term memory loss, there are a few other things I've experienced that I have been coming to understand in much greater depth this last year or so, particularly over the last few months. These experiences have actually led to me not being able to remember most of my childhood; only as I've been seeking to understand myself over the last little while have I been okay delving into the depths of me.
I've made it sound so ominous--I will say right here and right now that I did not have a bad childhood! I am in a loving family with incredible parents and awesome sisters and brothers. I had no major traumatic events in my personal history. I am grateful for my entire family and have lots of good memories of fun times, and have a lot of love for each and every person I am privileged to call a part of my family! If you feel that any particular experience in this blog series refers to you, please know that I am not saying anything from a position of bitterness or out of a desire for revenge or to call anyone out. I simply want you to know me a bit better, since no one ever wants to actually talk about the "A" word except for Dad and occasionally Mom, yet it has impacted so, so many parts of our lives individually and as a family. Positively and negatively. Know that I love you more than you can imagine.
For those of you who are not "in the know", the "A" word to which I am referring is Autism. Yes, I am autistic. Yes, I know that many of you already know that. No, I do not expect anyone to do anything about it. Yes, finding out has had an absolutely paradigm-shifting effect on my perception of myself and my entire life, much as it has had on others in our family. No, no two experiences are alike, as no two people are alike. This is my story, yours is your own.
I've titled this series of posts "Finding Me" because of the surprising accuracy of that statement in what has been going on this last year. I am increasingly awed at just how much weight that statement has, and at how extremely appropriate a title it is for the movie Finding Dory. It is exceptionally insightful in hindsight. I can finally look at my own life in hindsight, and find myself relating so much to the entire concept.
Stay tuned for the next installment: "Finding Me - Nothing's Change but Everything's Different"
I've made it sound so ominous--I will say right here and right now that I did not have a bad childhood! I am in a loving family with incredible parents and awesome sisters and brothers. I had no major traumatic events in my personal history. I am grateful for my entire family and have lots of good memories of fun times, and have a lot of love for each and every person I am privileged to call a part of my family! If you feel that any particular experience in this blog series refers to you, please know that I am not saying anything from a position of bitterness or out of a desire for revenge or to call anyone out. I simply want you to know me a bit better, since no one ever wants to actually talk about the "A" word except for Dad and occasionally Mom, yet it has impacted so, so many parts of our lives individually and as a family. Positively and negatively. Know that I love you more than you can imagine.
For those of you who are not "in the know", the "A" word to which I am referring is Autism. Yes, I am autistic. Yes, I know that many of you already know that. No, I do not expect anyone to do anything about it. Yes, finding out has had an absolutely paradigm-shifting effect on my perception of myself and my entire life, much as it has had on others in our family. No, no two experiences are alike, as no two people are alike. This is my story, yours is your own.
I've titled this series of posts "Finding Me" because of the surprising accuracy of that statement in what has been going on this last year. I am increasingly awed at just how much weight that statement has, and at how extremely appropriate a title it is for the movie Finding Dory. It is exceptionally insightful in hindsight. I can finally look at my own life in hindsight, and find myself relating so much to the entire concept.
Stay tuned for the next installment: "Finding Me - Nothing's Change but Everything's Different"
Sunday, February 7, 2016
A Poor Boy's Story
Today while reading through some of the stories about my ancestors that I've found on familysearch I ran into this particular gem. It's about John Weaver, 1776-1847, on my mother's side of the family. Definitely had a sense of humor :)
A Poor Boy's Story
Written by Gurnsey's Granddaughter, Nellie McAllister (Daughter of Angeline Brown).
This is a true story of Grandfather Gurnsey I wrote once when we had to write a true story of Pioneer Life in school. By Nellie McAllister
A happy family was seated around a cosy fire one evening when Gurnsey asked his Grandfather for a story. "Well, you will never tire of hearing stories," said his Grandfather. "As you boys think you have a hard time of it, perhaps I had better tell you some of the experiences of my younger days. You boys don't know anything about being poor or hard work either. When I was about 14 years old, I would carry a sack of corn to mill, get it ground and then carry it back, and it was no short distance either as the mill was over a sandy hill, about four or five miles from home. I used to make about two trips a week. And I did not have solid shoes on like you have, to keep the hot sand from burning my feet.
My clothes were not very nice either, I was pleased to get a pair of pants made out of flour sacks as you seem to be when you get a nice black pair. I will never forget the first pair of buckskin pants I wore. I was about 18 years old then. I went one day to bring the cows from the pasture, which was some distance from home. I rained on me going down and as soon as my pants got wet, they began to stretch. They kept stretching and I kept rolling them up, but I got tired of rolling them and thought that they might as well be cut off then as any time. So I cut about a foot off the legs. It stopped raining by the time I started home. I got home early with the cows, but I stayed out of mother's sight as long as I could, for the new pants she had made for me the day before had shrunk! till they were about legless. It is something to laugh at now but I did not laugh that night, for I had been working about two months to earn money enough to buy those pants and a theatre ticket. The theatre was to be on the following Friday night in Salt Lake City. I had been planning to go to it for a long time and could not give it up. I felt so bad that Mother cut up one of her half worn bed ticks and made a pair of pants out of it.
Just imagine how I looked in my striped pants with half a suspender fastened to them with sticks that I had whittled out for the purpose. Well, when I got my finery on Mother gave me a list of some things she wanted from the store and I started to the city. I was tired after my long walk so as soon as I purchased the articles that Mother wanted. I sat down under a shade tree to wait till time for the theatre, I did not remain there long as it was soon time to go.
The Theatre was crowded and I took a seat by two young girls with whom I was not very well acquainted but I thought this would be a good chance to get acquainted. I enjoyed the first two or three scenes very well, but after a time the room became close and I could smell onion. It was very disagreeable, the perfume of onions became stronger, till I decided that I was as well acquainted with those girls as I wanted to be. So I took another seat, my, it was worse then ever!, and I began to think that everybody in the house had been eating onion, except myself. I was not long in changing my mind, for I put my hand in my pocket and there was the asafetida*, I had gotten for Mother. Though I have had many a laugh over it since, I felt very serious about it then. And I never felt so much as a prisoner set free, as when I left that Theatre"
(*The dictionary defines asafetida as "a fetid resinous gum obtained from the roots of a herbaceous plant, used in herbal medicine and Indian cooking." KMA)
(**Gurnsey's grandfathers were William Brown Sr. 1766-1820 from Hancock , Berkshire, Massachusetts AND John Weaver 1776-1847 Stillwater, Saratoga, New York. I guess the story could be about either of these grandfathers - Kathleen Mitchell Abrams)
A Poor Boy's Story
Written by Gurnsey's Granddaughter, Nellie McAllister (Daughter of Angeline Brown).
This is a true story of Grandfather Gurnsey I wrote once when we had to write a true story of Pioneer Life in school. By Nellie McAllister
A happy family was seated around a cosy fire one evening when Gurnsey asked his Grandfather for a story. "Well, you will never tire of hearing stories," said his Grandfather. "As you boys think you have a hard time of it, perhaps I had better tell you some of the experiences of my younger days. You boys don't know anything about being poor or hard work either. When I was about 14 years old, I would carry a sack of corn to mill, get it ground and then carry it back, and it was no short distance either as the mill was over a sandy hill, about four or five miles from home. I used to make about two trips a week. And I did not have solid shoes on like you have, to keep the hot sand from burning my feet.
My clothes were not very nice either, I was pleased to get a pair of pants made out of flour sacks as you seem to be when you get a nice black pair. I will never forget the first pair of buckskin pants I wore. I was about 18 years old then. I went one day to bring the cows from the pasture, which was some distance from home. I rained on me going down and as soon as my pants got wet, they began to stretch. They kept stretching and I kept rolling them up, but I got tired of rolling them and thought that they might as well be cut off then as any time. So I cut about a foot off the legs. It stopped raining by the time I started home. I got home early with the cows, but I stayed out of mother's sight as long as I could, for the new pants she had made for me the day before had shrunk! till they were about legless. It is something to laugh at now but I did not laugh that night, for I had been working about two months to earn money enough to buy those pants and a theatre ticket. The theatre was to be on the following Friday night in Salt Lake City. I had been planning to go to it for a long time and could not give it up. I felt so bad that Mother cut up one of her half worn bed ticks and made a pair of pants out of it.
Just imagine how I looked in my striped pants with half a suspender fastened to them with sticks that I had whittled out for the purpose. Well, when I got my finery on Mother gave me a list of some things she wanted from the store and I started to the city. I was tired after my long walk so as soon as I purchased the articles that Mother wanted. I sat down under a shade tree to wait till time for the theatre, I did not remain there long as it was soon time to go.
The Theatre was crowded and I took a seat by two young girls with whom I was not very well acquainted but I thought this would be a good chance to get acquainted. I enjoyed the first two or three scenes very well, but after a time the room became close and I could smell onion. It was very disagreeable, the perfume of onions became stronger, till I decided that I was as well acquainted with those girls as I wanted to be. So I took another seat, my, it was worse then ever!, and I began to think that everybody in the house had been eating onion, except myself. I was not long in changing my mind, for I put my hand in my pocket and there was the asafetida*, I had gotten for Mother. Though I have had many a laugh over it since, I felt very serious about it then. And I never felt so much as a prisoner set free, as when I left that Theatre"
(*The dictionary defines asafetida as "a fetid resinous gum obtained from the roots of a herbaceous plant, used in herbal medicine and Indian cooking." KMA)
(**Gurnsey's grandfathers were William Brown Sr. 1766-1820 from Hancock , Berkshire, Massachusetts AND John Weaver 1776-1847 Stillwater, Saratoga, New York. I guess the story could be about either of these grandfathers - Kathleen Mitchell Abrams)
Wednesday, September 10, 2014
Just Breathe
A month and a half ago I worked late, arriving home around 1:30 AM. I lay down for a while, reading to wind down so that I could go to sleep. Rolling from my right side onto my back, I suddenly felt a numbness in my abdomen, kind of like when your hand goes numb but inside my upper right side. After the numbness wore off about fifteen minutes later, I felt a dull aching. Not wanting to push my luck, I set up an appointment with a doctor at my clinic for a couple of days later.
To make a long story short, since that time I have seen two doctors and one nurse practitioner at my clinic, a GI specialist twice (including upper and lower endoscopies), had a nuclear HIDA scan and seen a surgeon. Here is what has been found, more or less in chronological order:
Prediabetes
Anemia
Vitamin D Deficiency
Chronic Cholecystitis
Biliary Gastric Reflux
LA Grade B reflux esophagitis
Chronic Gastritis
Hemorrhoids
Hiatus Hernia
In addition to the upper right abdominal pain and numbness in my gallbladder, I have had some as yet unidentified pain in my right and left sides as well as some upper left abdominal numbness and pain. Woof.
For the prediabetes I have worked on cutting back my sugar intake and increasing my physical activity (though this was curtailed by my abdominal pain). For the iron deficiency anemia, possibly caused by the esophagitis and gastritis, I began taking Iron supplements--what a difference! I feel like my brain is firing on all cylinders again, or at least much much closer to it. For the gastritis and esophagitis I am taking omeprazole, and for the hernia, well, I have a follow up with my GI specialist scheduled.
For the chronic cholecystitis, we made the decision to get my gallbladder out. As I had been experiencing increasing pain and discomfort, and have a presentation scheduled for early October that I wanted to be recovered for, we scheduled the surgery for Monday, September 8th. My dad accompanied me to the hospital and, fortunately, stayed through the surgery. I liked my surgical team-they all had a sense of humor, and got along well with each other while being very professional in their interactions with me and each other.
While the surgery went well, it got rocky afterwards. I remember waking in recovery in pain, and was given some demerol. While it did temper the pain, it was still intense enough that they gave me a second shot. During this time I made a conscious effort to wake up, wanting to be aware of everything as much as possible. I vaguely remember getting moved to a different room, and being told that I didn't need oxygen anymore. I had been talkative and my oxygen levels had been reading well. I took off the oxygen line as the nurse had already turned off the oxygen. I remember the nurse leaving and my dad mentioning that he was going to go to the pharmacy to pick up my post-surgery meds (bear in mind that these memories are rather fuzzy, as I had been under anesthesia and was now on some very strong pain killers). Though I had been trying not to, I fell asleep again pretty immediately.
I woke up some time later to anxious voices and a full oxygen mask on. My dad had returned from a long wait at the pharmacy to find me unconscious, absolutely white and barely breathing. He tried to wake me, and called the nurse who arrived a couple of minutes later. After both failed to wake me, they made efforts to resuscitate me and increase my oxygen level, which had dropped to 33 (safe is 90). It took some time but eventually I came around, very lethargic and with a major ringing in my ears, which fortunately faded as my oxygen level came up. I continued to fade in and out, and the decision was made to admit me to the hospital for the night. My mom had come by this point, and she is the one that accompanied to my room.
What followed was a very rough night-while I mostly did ok after being moved to my own room, I remained on oxygen all night. Mom stayed with me until sometime between nine and ten, at which point we both agreed it was ok for her to go home and get some rest. For myself, I don't know that I had more than fifteen minutes or so of sleep at a time. Between the nurses checking on me, the post-op pain, the need to use the restroom, I'm glad that I wasn't sent home. At one point, trying to avoid a migraine due to a very stiff neck, I raised my bed and became nauseous--a state I definitely didn't appreciate given the now increasing pain at the surgical sight. I tried to breathe to temper the nausea but only succeeded in making myself hyperventilate--ouch! I was crying and couldn't get control. I was given some anti-nausea and pain meds through my IV, and asked for my phone and kindle to distract me. After the nurses left the room I turned on my phone and started playing the music in my "spiritual" playlist, a way to connect with my Heavenly Father. I ended up starting to sing along with the songs, starting with "I Know that My Redeemer Lives", a beautiful rendition and a very true statement in one. I ended up singing for almost an hour, until I was able to sing normally. Even better than normally actually, as I was singing in soprano ranges that I don't normally hit all that well any longer.
By that time I had calmed down, got my breathing under control, the pain and nausea were taken care of, and I was (both fortunately and unfortunately) well hydrated. Though I did have to get up at least three times over the next couple of hours to relieve myself (ouch!), I believe that marks the turning point. I steadily got better over the rest of the morning, decreasing iv meds and coming off continuous oxygen (though when I started dozing I had to go back on for a time, I eventually had it off for over six hours). I was finally ok to come home, though in conversation with my surgeon we discussed and agreed to having an oxygen machine delivered to my house for use at night, since my level was still dropping if I started dozing off.
During the course of the day, dad had come and spent several hours with me. He helped me pass the time, got me three different set of earbuds from the gift shop (my favorite set has a squirrel on one earbud and an acorn on the other), and some gorgeous white, purple and pink flowers in a very cute mug with Thumper (from Bambi) on it. He eventually had to leave for an appointment, after which mom joined me back at the hospital. After dinner I came home, hanging out in my living room for a couple of hours until the oxygen machine was delivered. Once mom and I had it all set up in my room I went to bed. I slept soundly for an amazing twelve hours, waking only once when mom checked on me and not getting up until after dad checked on me. I am so glad to be home :)
To make a long story short, since that time I have seen two doctors and one nurse practitioner at my clinic, a GI specialist twice (including upper and lower endoscopies), had a nuclear HIDA scan and seen a surgeon. Here is what has been found, more or less in chronological order:
Prediabetes
Anemia
Vitamin D Deficiency
Chronic Cholecystitis
Biliary Gastric Reflux
LA Grade B reflux esophagitis
Chronic Gastritis
Hemorrhoids
Hiatus Hernia
In addition to the upper right abdominal pain and numbness in my gallbladder, I have had some as yet unidentified pain in my right and left sides as well as some upper left abdominal numbness and pain. Woof.
For the prediabetes I have worked on cutting back my sugar intake and increasing my physical activity (though this was curtailed by my abdominal pain). For the iron deficiency anemia, possibly caused by the esophagitis and gastritis, I began taking Iron supplements--what a difference! I feel like my brain is firing on all cylinders again, or at least much much closer to it. For the gastritis and esophagitis I am taking omeprazole, and for the hernia, well, I have a follow up with my GI specialist scheduled.
For the chronic cholecystitis, we made the decision to get my gallbladder out. As I had been experiencing increasing pain and discomfort, and have a presentation scheduled for early October that I wanted to be recovered for, we scheduled the surgery for Monday, September 8th. My dad accompanied me to the hospital and, fortunately, stayed through the surgery. I liked my surgical team-they all had a sense of humor, and got along well with each other while being very professional in their interactions with me and each other.
While the surgery went well, it got rocky afterwards. I remember waking in recovery in pain, and was given some demerol. While it did temper the pain, it was still intense enough that they gave me a second shot. During this time I made a conscious effort to wake up, wanting to be aware of everything as much as possible. I vaguely remember getting moved to a different room, and being told that I didn't need oxygen anymore. I had been talkative and my oxygen levels had been reading well. I took off the oxygen line as the nurse had already turned off the oxygen. I remember the nurse leaving and my dad mentioning that he was going to go to the pharmacy to pick up my post-surgery meds (bear in mind that these memories are rather fuzzy, as I had been under anesthesia and was now on some very strong pain killers). Though I had been trying not to, I fell asleep again pretty immediately.
I woke up some time later to anxious voices and a full oxygen mask on. My dad had returned from a long wait at the pharmacy to find me unconscious, absolutely white and barely breathing. He tried to wake me, and called the nurse who arrived a couple of minutes later. After both failed to wake me, they made efforts to resuscitate me and increase my oxygen level, which had dropped to 33 (safe is 90). It took some time but eventually I came around, very lethargic and with a major ringing in my ears, which fortunately faded as my oxygen level came up. I continued to fade in and out, and the decision was made to admit me to the hospital for the night. My mom had come by this point, and she is the one that accompanied to my room.
What followed was a very rough night-while I mostly did ok after being moved to my own room, I remained on oxygen all night. Mom stayed with me until sometime between nine and ten, at which point we both agreed it was ok for her to go home and get some rest. For myself, I don't know that I had more than fifteen minutes or so of sleep at a time. Between the nurses checking on me, the post-op pain, the need to use the restroom, I'm glad that I wasn't sent home. At one point, trying to avoid a migraine due to a very stiff neck, I raised my bed and became nauseous--a state I definitely didn't appreciate given the now increasing pain at the surgical sight. I tried to breathe to temper the nausea but only succeeded in making myself hyperventilate--ouch! I was crying and couldn't get control. I was given some anti-nausea and pain meds through my IV, and asked for my phone and kindle to distract me. After the nurses left the room I turned on my phone and started playing the music in my "spiritual" playlist, a way to connect with my Heavenly Father. I ended up starting to sing along with the songs, starting with "I Know that My Redeemer Lives", a beautiful rendition and a very true statement in one. I ended up singing for almost an hour, until I was able to sing normally. Even better than normally actually, as I was singing in soprano ranges that I don't normally hit all that well any longer.
By that time I had calmed down, got my breathing under control, the pain and nausea were taken care of, and I was (both fortunately and unfortunately) well hydrated. Though I did have to get up at least three times over the next couple of hours to relieve myself (ouch!), I believe that marks the turning point. I steadily got better over the rest of the morning, decreasing iv meds and coming off continuous oxygen (though when I started dozing I had to go back on for a time, I eventually had it off for over six hours). I was finally ok to come home, though in conversation with my surgeon we discussed and agreed to having an oxygen machine delivered to my house for use at night, since my level was still dropping if I started dozing off.
During the course of the day, dad had come and spent several hours with me. He helped me pass the time, got me three different set of earbuds from the gift shop (my favorite set has a squirrel on one earbud and an acorn on the other), and some gorgeous white, purple and pink flowers in a very cute mug with Thumper (from Bambi) on it. He eventually had to leave for an appointment, after which mom joined me back at the hospital. After dinner I came home, hanging out in my living room for a couple of hours until the oxygen machine was delivered. Once mom and I had it all set up in my room I went to bed. I slept soundly for an amazing twelve hours, waking only once when mom checked on me and not getting up until after dad checked on me. I am so glad to be home :)
Sunday, July 21, 2013
WTD Scottsdale Trip Day Four
Yep. Here it is.
He's a leprechaun, of course he's magical!
I support leprechauns! They have no reason to torment me.
I had to look at myself in the mirror 'cause I'm cute.
She's already writing things down.
Will you get me some orange juice if I sit on your butter?
It's not "leg"er. You are not maintaining the integrity of the product.
It's going to have an identity crisis right before you end it's life.
I'm not being funny I'm serious.
It doesn't help to remind me right after I tell you to remind me.
Have you read that book on brain development?
No I haven't! What are you implying?
But not quite that girly.
I just feel like I should be part of the Scipio part, you know?
Don't punish the maids.
But I'm mad at it!
Tell the elevator to go fast!
I'm gonna hyperventilate on purpose.
Deborah's in front of you and you still went the wrong way?
My dirt man's in a cup holder! Don't knock him down.
That wasn't funny so you don't need to write that down.
Now it's a quad-wizard tournament.
That sounds a lot stupider.
Somebody's king of the bumble bee crowns.
My dirt man is leaking. He's dirting to death.
If we hit Payson by six we can have breakfast.
At least its an orange car so it's really obvious.
That's really sweet Deborah!
I'm sure that's what she was going for.
Sarah do you want a stomp rocket?
I have faith in you guys to fit.
Ya we're listening to Parry Hotter.
She's our savior. Oh, we better roll up the windows.
My purse is sitting at your feet.
'K Amy I'll pull the lever, you push.
Oh no, your knees aren't even touching!
I was gonna call you but I blinked and we were already out of Scipio.
And you have the hiccups.
And I have the hiccups.
And I was kind of disappointed when it worked.
Amy sat on Deborah's butter two days in a row
Look there's a tow truck. But it already has a truck.
If we give you some blue will you turn purple?
Mom I stole ramen, thanks.
What are you doing?
Playing!
Ok
Don't question my sanity.
Your car hates you
Deborah makes a habit out of hanging out the window like that
I love you the most I came and saved you.
I love you the least I killed your car.
It says Duke's!
I'm glad you wore the pink ones today.
Me too.
It's so pretty!
I found something shiny for you!
Various pieces of car
All singles baby!
I patted it.
That was nice.
That was the best growing laugh ever.
That was awesome! I teared up a little.
Well at least we have our lucky monkeys.
Somebody liked my comment.
Who grounded me?
Just tell her I'll kick her in the shin
What about me? I'm here too!
You can tag the inside of her car and put her on it.
Not that we ever did but we could've; now we can't.
I can't run, are you kidding?
If you're gonna do something, stand up on the freeway.
Which also means its not freezing, so that's good
You also weren't open so therefor I wasn't talking to you.
Love tap! I lost my ball.
My orange ones are actually in my orange car
Should we steal this pole?
Probably not they don't make them very user-friendly
Hey, we just went over 10 miles per hour just then
That's sadder than us 'cause we had Sarah
He laughed when I told him about it.
Do you have a car mechanic one for Sarah?
It's like, I have pants. That's fine.
They have a lemur hanging from their handle
I was an ant. Amy was a fish.
Hi Dad!
Hola!
No!
You have to have 2 to have a valley
I didn't do it on purpose it just does it for fun!
It moves so easily it's a fun game now. Wanna try it?
It's pollution! And I would feel bad.
Back before it was built it wasn't there yet.
Guys lets pretend we care just for her!
You're grounded from Real. Just because they're rude. You can't spend any money on them for two weeks.
And then he didn't. He stopped at the diner in the middle of nowhere.
870 PAR. I bet I could par that hole.
We weren't expecting that at all.
He's a leprechaun, of course he's magical!
I support leprechauns! They have no reason to torment me.
I had to look at myself in the mirror 'cause I'm cute.
She's already writing things down.
Will you get me some orange juice if I sit on your butter?
It's not "leg"er. You are not maintaining the integrity of the product.
It's going to have an identity crisis right before you end it's life.
I'm not being funny I'm serious.
It doesn't help to remind me right after I tell you to remind me.
Have you read that book on brain development?
No I haven't! What are you implying?
But not quite that girly.
I just feel like I should be part of the Scipio part, you know?
Don't punish the maids.
But I'm mad at it!
Tell the elevator to go fast!
I'm gonna hyperventilate on purpose.
Deborah's in front of you and you still went the wrong way?
My dirt man's in a cup holder! Don't knock him down.
That wasn't funny so you don't need to write that down.
Now it's a quad-wizard tournament.
That sounds a lot stupider.
Somebody's king of the bumble bee crowns.
My dirt man is leaking. He's dirting to death.
If we hit Payson by six we can have breakfast.
At least its an orange car so it's really obvious.
That's really sweet Deborah!
I'm sure that's what she was going for.
Sarah do you want a stomp rocket?
I have faith in you guys to fit.
Ya we're listening to Parry Hotter.
She's our savior. Oh, we better roll up the windows.
My purse is sitting at your feet.
'K Amy I'll pull the lever, you push.
Oh no, your knees aren't even touching!
I was gonna call you but I blinked and we were already out of Scipio.
And you have the hiccups.
And I have the hiccups.
And I was kind of disappointed when it worked.
Amy sat on Deborah's butter two days in a row
Look there's a tow truck. But it already has a truck.
If we give you some blue will you turn purple?
Mom I stole ramen, thanks.
What are you doing?
Playing!
Ok
Don't question my sanity.
Your car hates you
Deborah makes a habit out of hanging out the window like that
I love you the most I came and saved you.
I love you the least I killed your car.
It says Duke's!
I'm glad you wore the pink ones today.
Me too.
It's so pretty!
I found something shiny for you!
Various pieces of car
All singles baby!
I patted it.
That was nice.
That was the best growing laugh ever.
That was awesome! I teared up a little.
Well at least we have our lucky monkeys.
Somebody liked my comment.
Who grounded me?
Just tell her I'll kick her in the shin
What about me? I'm here too!
You can tag the inside of her car and put her on it.
Not that we ever did but we could've; now we can't.
I can't run, are you kidding?
If you're gonna do something, stand up on the freeway.
Which also means its not freezing, so that's good
You also weren't open so therefor I wasn't talking to you.
Love tap! I lost my ball.
My orange ones are actually in my orange car
Should we steal this pole?
Probably not they don't make them very user-friendly
Hey, we just went over 10 miles per hour just then
That's sadder than us 'cause we had Sarah
He laughed when I told him about it.
Do you have a car mechanic one for Sarah?
It's like, I have pants. That's fine.
They have a lemur hanging from their handle
I was an ant. Amy was a fish.
Hi Dad!
Hola!
No!
You have to have 2 to have a valley
I didn't do it on purpose it just does it for fun!
It moves so easily it's a fun game now. Wanna try it?
It's pollution! And I would feel bad.
Back before it was built it wasn't there yet.
Guys lets pretend we care just for her!
You're grounded from Real. Just because they're rude. You can't spend any money on them for two weeks.
And then he didn't. He stopped at the diner in the middle of nowhere.
870 PAR. I bet I could par that hole.
We weren't expecting that at all.
WTD Scottsdale Trip Day Three Point Eight Five
Ok so I posted the original Day Three thinking that we were done for the night. We were watching a movie, most of the lights were out, two of the three of us in bed. Little did I know that Amy would be getting online to read what had already been posted....
Ya I did it so fast you didn't see.
It's nice how they got all that rebar sticking out there.
There comes the Flarx guy!
Every time she laughs her head his the board!
I have to hold my head when I laugh!
Shush, I'm getting you phead hones!
Stop laughing! This is the scariest part of the movie!
This is the most we've laughed in three days
I'm crying down my nose! Ow! My throat hurts real bad!
That's the Larks guy?
Oooh she said it right!
Ouch, rugburn!
Mom they're on concrete
You guys really shouldn't have been funny, I already posted today.
It is the magic word. Gets all sorts of things done.
What was the climax?
The whole chase scene where they kill the flax guy.
I don't know! But I'm crying all over my IPad
You thought you were done Deborah! You thought it was bedtime!
It's not even that funny.
That's not the point!
Stop it!
I'm sorry!
I'm crying all over my boobs!
Why would you even say that out loud?
Because it's true, I had to move my thing
She's so stupid!
It's so funny!
And I did that!
You did
Did I say that?
I did!
Ok
We haven't hover-hugged anything!
You wrote that down?
Deborah did! It was a milkshake!
Why did you forget everything you said?
Because I didn't write it down
I did that after Amy so our smells would mingle.
Ow, they're all twitchy and weird
Just 'cause your ears don't work doesn't mean it wasn't on!
I didn't say that was the night light!
I have to get my boring book.
What book?
The brain book.
It's boring?
Not really but it puts me to sleep
Death comes unexpectedly!
Don't spit at me.
You can't go pth~~~~~~ if you're smiling!
That's one I learned! That you can't go pth~~~~~~~~ if you're smiling
Don't write that down it sounds really dirty
You guys got unfunny really fast
Then you'll have to do a 3 part 2
Will you guys go to sleep now so I can stop writing?
Yes.
Good job guys I'm so proud.
We tried.
You just called 'em a pea-brain mom
Don't, if I start it's not gonna stop! Don't don't! I lost it!
Take a deep breath and look at these stupid lines on the ceiling
Ow! That hurts! I told you not to!
Go for a walk. Go throw up in the bathroom in the lobby.
I might. Then I'd throw up all over Deborah's bed. 'Cause I'm not getting up.
Sh!!! Stop talking.
If you don't react, I don't react. SSHHHHhhhhh........
Ya I did it so fast you didn't see.
It's nice how they got all that rebar sticking out there.
There comes the Flarx guy!
Every time she laughs her head his the board!
I have to hold my head when I laugh!
Shush, I'm getting you phead hones!
Stop laughing! This is the scariest part of the movie!
This is the most we've laughed in three days
I'm crying down my nose! Ow! My throat hurts real bad!
That's the Larks guy?
Oooh she said it right!
Ouch, rugburn!
Mom they're on concrete
You guys really shouldn't have been funny, I already posted today.
It is the magic word. Gets all sorts of things done.
What was the climax?
The whole chase scene where they kill the flax guy.
I don't know! But I'm crying all over my IPad
You thought you were done Deborah! You thought it was bedtime!
It's not even that funny.
That's not the point!
Stop it!
I'm sorry!
I'm crying all over my boobs!
Why would you even say that out loud?
Because it's true, I had to move my thing
She's so stupid!
It's so funny!
And I did that!
You did
Did I say that?
I did!
Ok
We haven't hover-hugged anything!
You wrote that down?
Deborah did! It was a milkshake!
Why did you forget everything you said?
Because I didn't write it down
I did that after Amy so our smells would mingle.
Ow, they're all twitchy and weird
Just 'cause your ears don't work doesn't mean it wasn't on!
I didn't say that was the night light!
I have to get my boring book.
What book?
The brain book.
It's boring?
Not really but it puts me to sleep
Death comes unexpectedly!
Don't spit at me.
You can't go pth~~~~~~ if you're smiling!
That's one I learned! That you can't go pth~~~~~~~~ if you're smiling
Don't write that down it sounds really dirty
You guys got unfunny really fast
Then you'll have to do a 3 part 2
Will you guys go to sleep now so I can stop writing?
Yes.
Good job guys I'm so proud.
We tried.
You just called 'em a pea-brain mom
Don't, if I start it's not gonna stop! Don't don't! I lost it!
Take a deep breath and look at these stupid lines on the ceiling
Ow! That hurts! I told you not to!
Go for a walk. Go throw up in the bathroom in the lobby.
I might. Then I'd throw up all over Deborah's bed. 'Cause I'm not getting up.
Sh!!! Stop talking.
If you don't react, I don't react. SSHHHHhhhhh........
Saturday, July 20, 2013
WTD Scottsdale Trip Day Three
Day three of four, enjoy!
Oooh.
It is called "butt"er.
I must be wicked. Because of my stiffneckedness.
I can make a baby out of this now!
It was like a conga line in the middle of the session!
I did that earlier. I looked at it and said "I could hug that. I could hover-hug that cactus."
I'll play with your hair.
Our job is human task
We should stomp the puppet!
I can't play this game anymore. I'm out of lives.
Mom just pinched my butt!
Don't look at me.
You're supposed to be outraged!
I cleaned up the orange juice.
You're mom. You're not supposed to stomp on my foot anyway.
Fish arm, fish arm!
Just for that, you can't come.
Trees or trays, I have none.
O'Briens Pub. I like them apples.
I didn't tell her!
Not in my dreams.
Why would I steal it in your dreams?
Because I wouldn't let you.
That didn't even make sense.
Holy Cow!
Ya but it doesn't have a shovel either.
Mom, please stop playing footsies with my knee.
'Cause you're not Utahns.
And they all pronounce their h's. Do you say hoowhip?
And then I decided I didn't want a mortal enemy 'cause then we'd be trying to kill each other.
I'm straddling a pole.
That came out worse than I anticipated.
I'm just holding your shoe! And that's making me ticklish.
Oh my gosh everyone should want to be our friend right now!
He says I'm a white girl trying to be Mexican and I just can't get there.
Thank you. I was running out of stuff to sniff.
Now it's gonna have a wavy finger in it
I live in an 'ouse
Cool whip? Really? It's just not that funny.
When you go home you can tell C'ase
I love you, a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck. A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap
'Eap!
Nobody likes it they're all getting tired of seeing you
It's like eating sugar-coated air
I'm sticky I need to stop.
Aaron laughed.
I gotta pee!
I gotta q.
Will you take this to Kevin?
Because I haven't for two days. And I'm totally fine with that.
I do like my donkey. I think he's cute.
We don't know yet mom, chillax!
I would have said killax. You're right, cillax sounds better.
If you don't stop talking, I'm gonna pop your toe!
Just want to let you know that every time I walk in front of the tv I want to do a sexy dance.
He's a junkie mom. A government prescribed junkie.
Boy we are brilliant. We really are.
You don't very often see flying bras.
I do all the time.
Oooh.
It is called "butt"er.
I must be wicked. Because of my stiffneckedness.
I can make a baby out of this now!
It was like a conga line in the middle of the session!
I did that earlier. I looked at it and said "I could hug that. I could hover-hug that cactus."
I'll play with your hair.
Our job is human task
We should stomp the puppet!
I can't play this game anymore. I'm out of lives.
Mom just pinched my butt!
Don't look at me.
You're supposed to be outraged!
I cleaned up the orange juice.
You're mom. You're not supposed to stomp on my foot anyway.
Fish arm, fish arm!
Just for that, you can't come.
Trees or trays, I have none.
O'Briens Pub. I like them apples.
I didn't tell her!
Not in my dreams.
Why would I steal it in your dreams?
Because I wouldn't let you.
That didn't even make sense.
Holy Cow!
Ya but it doesn't have a shovel either.
Mom, please stop playing footsies with my knee.
'Cause you're not Utahns.
And they all pronounce their h's. Do you say hoowhip?
And then I decided I didn't want a mortal enemy 'cause then we'd be trying to kill each other.
I'm straddling a pole.
That came out worse than I anticipated.
I'm just holding your shoe! And that's making me ticklish.
Oh my gosh everyone should want to be our friend right now!
He says I'm a white girl trying to be Mexican and I just can't get there.
Thank you. I was running out of stuff to sniff.
Now it's gonna have a wavy finger in it
I live in an 'ouse
Cool whip? Really? It's just not that funny.
When you go home you can tell C'ase
I love you, a bushel and a peck, a bushel and a peck and a hug around the neck. A hug around the neck and a barrel and a heap
'Eap!
Nobody likes it they're all getting tired of seeing you
It's like eating sugar-coated air
I'm sticky I need to stop.
Aaron laughed.
I gotta pee!
I gotta q.
Will you take this to Kevin?
Because I haven't for two days. And I'm totally fine with that.
I do like my donkey. I think he's cute.
We don't know yet mom, chillax!
I would have said killax. You're right, cillax sounds better.
If you don't stop talking, I'm gonna pop your toe!
Just want to let you know that every time I walk in front of the tv I want to do a sexy dance.
He's a junkie mom. A government prescribed junkie.
Boy we are brilliant. We really are.
You don't very often see flying bras.
I do all the time.
WTD Scottsdale Trip Day Two
Contributing Artists: Karrie, Amy and Deborah
It's probably because I'm joyful and I flip my head a lot.
Deborah, mom keeps touching me! Death comes unexpectedly.
I was just expressing my joy! Do I have to flip my head for you to understand it?
Stop being funny! I didn't bring the notebook!
Deborah, find the syrup. I can't, I'm writing that down.
Did I make you write something crazy? Nope I'm just good like that yo.
I guess deep down I just love Deborah more than you
Mom you have a phone. It's obvious you love it more than me.
Arizona's kind of a big place. If it wasn't it wouldn't have taken us so long to drive to the middle.
I don't believe in those buttons.
I know! They never do anything.
Mom, you know we're on the second floor, right?
Amy can I have your orange bags?
No.
They're really cute!
That's why I bought them.
Quick, be funny so I can write it down!
I got nothin'.
I'm saving your life, hold on. You're shedding.
I'm not even listening.
I know.
Who's crazy, I'm crazy?
I said go to Training Table.
Girls, do I need to separate you?
We're sorry.
It's ok.
Good, 'cause we're not actually sorry.
You were playing kneesies with me?
My shoe didn't start stabbing me 'til the last class.
Ow Ow Ow I don't bend that way!
It's really quiet.
I know, it's really cute.
What?
I need to go to the bathroom. Don't steal my stuff, 'kay?
I wouldn't get arrested for my reaction to catsup down my shirt. Unless you decided to press charges.
This bacon's dead. Can't you hear it crunchin'?
Why would you ban pie?
He was a pieist.
No! We have to be the same! We've been different all day!
Cover your apple.
I didn't look. I just knew.
It's six o'clock, we could eat breakfast.
We just did.
Is that Deborah OK or Deborah K?
Ring a bell. Ding!
He did the one whole joke all by himself.
Did you just shoot me with your keys?
She's writing that down.
She does that. That's why I'm holding the pie.
You're the kind of people my mom warned me about.
Can I hit you in the butt with my shirt? That was fun.
She's gonna shoot me with her keys again!
Death comes unexpectedly.
Then I should eat it now.
It's probably because I'm joyful and I flip my head a lot.
Deborah, mom keeps touching me! Death comes unexpectedly.
I was just expressing my joy! Do I have to flip my head for you to understand it?
Stop being funny! I didn't bring the notebook!
Deborah, find the syrup. I can't, I'm writing that down.
Did I make you write something crazy? Nope I'm just good like that yo.
I guess deep down I just love Deborah more than you
Mom you have a phone. It's obvious you love it more than me.
Arizona's kind of a big place. If it wasn't it wouldn't have taken us so long to drive to the middle.
I don't believe in those buttons.
I know! They never do anything.
Mom, you know we're on the second floor, right?
Amy can I have your orange bags?
No.
They're really cute!
That's why I bought them.
Quick, be funny so I can write it down!
I got nothin'.
I'm saving your life, hold on. You're shedding.
I'm not even listening.
I know.
Who's crazy, I'm crazy?
I said go to Training Table.
Girls, do I need to separate you?
We're sorry.
It's ok.
Good, 'cause we're not actually sorry.
You were playing kneesies with me?
My shoe didn't start stabbing me 'til the last class.
Ow Ow Ow I don't bend that way!
It's really quiet.
I know, it's really cute.
What?
I need to go to the bathroom. Don't steal my stuff, 'kay?
I wouldn't get arrested for my reaction to catsup down my shirt. Unless you decided to press charges.
This bacon's dead. Can't you hear it crunchin'?
Why would you ban pie?
He was a pieist.
No! We have to be the same! We've been different all day!
Cover your apple.
I didn't look. I just knew.
It's six o'clock, we could eat breakfast.
We just did.
Is that Deborah OK or Deborah K?
Ring a bell. Ding!
He did the one whole joke all by himself.
Did you just shoot me with your keys?
She's writing that down.
She does that. That's why I'm holding the pie.
You're the kind of people my mom warned me about.
Can I hit you in the butt with my shirt? That was fun.
She's gonna shoot me with her keys again!
Death comes unexpectedly.
Then I should eat it now.
WTD Scottsdale Trip Day One
Mom, Amy and I are on a four-day road trip together to Scottsdale, AZ. Mom and Amy for a child care conference, myself for a sanity break. Enjoy our one, two, and sometimes three-liners from day one :)
We'll turn the air on in Payson.
If I start to fall asleep I'm going to wake up and punch you in the leg.
That's not my seat. Or underneath it. Or me.
You have a crossword thing in your acrobat?
That's a lot funnier than it should be.
I have really bad handwriting in the dark.
I can't jump while I'm driving
I'm both sorry and heart-warmed at the same time.
I can't be careful it's so against my nature!
I can't go to sleep my oatmeal's not done.
My handwriting is better now that the sun is up.
Mom your phone went off! Here Deborah.
Stop touching me! I'd rather have blue hair!
She's already mummified give her a break.
We gotta call Amy when we're in Scipio
Seriously you've gotta find a way to write that down.
Mom your purse ate the bones!
Is that tickling your bum?
This is a fun road. You guys should go to sleep.
I wrote South Dakota in the dark.
Stop being funny when I can't hear
I want to get credit for all the stuff I don't do
DEATH COMES UNEXPECTEDLY!!
Is that a garbage truck?
Yep, let's wave.
He waved!
Deborah don't look down!
By the way it's not 'O, a dear!' its 'Doe, a deer'
Watch my cup while you eat your banana and when I get back I'll watch your banana while I eat your cup.
Will you carry my drink while we walk to the donkey and I'll pull the thinger off.
I saw what I thought was a bear cub but it was a tree trunk.
Chipmunk! I saw more wildlife!
I'll put a picture of you and a donkey on facebook
Sometimes its not on accident but I blame it on my phone
You can't be funny 'cause I'll get carsick
Navigation can be wrong. Besides, death comes unexpectedly.
Hurry hurry hurry! There's no cars coming! Hurry! Hurry!
You can hover hug it.
We got stuck in a parking lot twice today.
Don't hit the old guy. There's not many points in that.
Is that ok Deborah? Can we talk child care?
She's writing that down mom.
Deborah get outta the dang car
It's kinda sweat and hotty here
I didn't say you could bend my book mom!
Why'd you close it? 'Cause mom's reading a brain book.
It's really weird when her toes are wiggling out side my eyeballs
I wore this shirt and I keep looking down and seeing my pedometer
I'm not writing that down but I kind of want to
We eat spinach at my house.
Are you hoping I'll write that down? No, I just found out recently I like leaves.
We're just gonna bombard him everytime he comes over here
You're spoiled! She whined.
That seems like it took a lot of effort. It did.
What if I don't hear it? We could be dead! Death comes unexpectedly!
I don't know how to write all that down, so I'm just not going to.
That implies we have entire conversations that are funny, not just one-liners.
I never actually eat my leftovers so I can't take them home to Chase tonight. Kevin would eat my leftovers.
I'm gonna suck up my brownies now.
I don't know your whole binder clip system, so I'm going to ignore it.
I guess you better take the notebook 'cause she can't say funny things to herself.
Chase has really big lips too, our kids are doomed.
We'll turn the air on in Payson.
If I start to fall asleep I'm going to wake up and punch you in the leg.
That's not my seat. Or underneath it. Or me.
You have a crossword thing in your acrobat?
That's a lot funnier than it should be.
I have really bad handwriting in the dark.
I can't jump while I'm driving
I'm both sorry and heart-warmed at the same time.
I can't be careful it's so against my nature!
I can't go to sleep my oatmeal's not done.
My handwriting is better now that the sun is up.
Mom your phone went off! Here Deborah.
Stop touching me! I'd rather have blue hair!
She's already mummified give her a break.
We gotta call Amy when we're in Scipio
Seriously you've gotta find a way to write that down.
Mom your purse ate the bones!
Is that tickling your bum?
This is a fun road. You guys should go to sleep.
I wrote South Dakota in the dark.
Stop being funny when I can't hear
I want to get credit for all the stuff I don't do
DEATH COMES UNEXPECTEDLY!!
Is that a garbage truck?
Yep, let's wave.
He waved!
Deborah don't look down!
By the way it's not 'O, a dear!' its 'Doe, a deer'
Watch my cup while you eat your banana and when I get back I'll watch your banana while I eat your cup.
Will you carry my drink while we walk to the donkey and I'll pull the thinger off.
I saw what I thought was a bear cub but it was a tree trunk.
Chipmunk! I saw more wildlife!
I'll put a picture of you and a donkey on facebook
Sometimes its not on accident but I blame it on my phone
You can't be funny 'cause I'll get carsick
Navigation can be wrong. Besides, death comes unexpectedly.
Hurry hurry hurry! There's no cars coming! Hurry! Hurry!
You can hover hug it.
We got stuck in a parking lot twice today.
Don't hit the old guy. There's not many points in that.
Is that ok Deborah? Can we talk child care?
She's writing that down mom.
Deborah get outta the dang car
It's kinda sweat and hotty here
I didn't say you could bend my book mom!
Why'd you close it? 'Cause mom's reading a brain book.
It's really weird when her toes are wiggling out side my eyeballs
I wore this shirt and I keep looking down and seeing my pedometer
I'm not writing that down but I kind of want to
We eat spinach at my house.
Are you hoping I'll write that down? No, I just found out recently I like leaves.
We're just gonna bombard him everytime he comes over here
You're spoiled! She whined.
That seems like it took a lot of effort. It did.
What if I don't hear it? We could be dead! Death comes unexpectedly!
I don't know how to write all that down, so I'm just not going to.
That implies we have entire conversations that are funny, not just one-liners.
I never actually eat my leftovers so I can't take them home to Chase tonight. Kevin would eat my leftovers.
I'm gonna suck up my brownies now.
I don't know your whole binder clip system, so I'm going to ignore it.
I guess you better take the notebook 'cause she can't say funny things to herself.
Chase has really big lips too, our kids are doomed.
Monday, June 3, 2013
Alfred William Phillips 1862-1932
"My father Alfred William Phillips was born in Salt Lake City Utah June 15, 1862 was the first child of Alfred and Frederica Phillips whom was Pioneers that came to Salt Lake City Utah in the year of 1861. Their first home was a two room house on the corner of what is now 9th South and 5th East, then known as the Gates Farm. That was where father was born.
He first lived there for several [years]. In the year 1879 his father bought a farm on 7 East and [fourteth] So, which is now 33rd So. 7 East.
Father as a boy had to help on the farm and herd cows.
Near the house was deep springs and a [milk ___ (house?)] was built by it. The milk was put in pans for the cream to rise. His mother made butter and sold it, so the family could only have the skim milk and clabber for breakfast.
When he was about nineteen years old he left home to work at the Smelter he lived with Lucy Bullock whom had borders. Later on Dec. 13 1882 Father married Lucy Caroline Bullock, the 1st baby was born Sept 6 1883. After a few years they moved to Ashley, Vernal Co. Utah. It was there my brother Roy was born, May 12 1887.
[Two years later she had a pair of twins which one, Ray lived 5 [ __ ] Fay lived 7 mo.] (**notation on side of sheet; church genealogical records show they were born August 2,1885 between Elon and Leroy and lived only five days)
They soon moved back to Salt Lake. He bought five acres of ground at [3357] So 3rd E. from his father. He then farmed ten acres as there was five acre going on the north belonging to his [father].
Mother owned 5 acre of which is now [fourty fifth] South. She sold that to her sister and they bought ten acres of ground at Cresent West of the Cresent School house. He farmed that raised hay and grain. He would drive down with a team of horses and wagon to cut the hay and get it up, often bring back a head of hay to sell.
Later he bought ten acres joining so that was twenty acres to farm.
He [also] did work for [Kimbal] and Richards.
At one time he and a neighber owned a Thrasher and horse power machine and would thrash for different ones.
Later he got a job of the [sprinkling] wagon. They would sprinkle St streek (**state street?) as then it was not a hard top road.
Clair drove the team quite a lot as father had the farm to take care of.
About the year of 1911 the old home which was a red brick two room house was torn down and a new light brick home was built. That is where my youngest brother now lives. (**Side note: this refers to Benjamin Willey Phillips, my great grandfather. I think this is the same house where his second wife my great grandmother, Bertha Haycock Phillips, lived until she passed away November 18, 2007.)
Father and mother had twelve children
Elon Alfred
Layfayette
Raymond
Leroy
Leo Thomas
John Clairmond
Ancel Clayton
Ardelle William
Lucy Frederica
Carl James
Verle Joseph
Benjamin Willy
[ ____ of ______ _____ ____ _______ ______] and small children.
Father did not do much in Church work till after [1907] when he went to the temple and had the family sealed to him. (**per church record this occurred June 3rd of 1908)
Later he worked with the Genealogical and did lots of temple work.
In 1930 just befor mother passed a way he went to the Dr. for gland trouble
After mother died Nov 16 1930, he kept getting worse
He finally had to go to hospital for opperation.
We did learn that he had Cancer and he just kept going down. He cam back home. Ben and his wife then took care of him till he passed away, Sept 28 1932
Buried in Murray City Cemetary
Alfred William Phillips
Born Salt Lake City Utah
June 15, 1862
Baptized 1874 by Jessie [Murfay]
Ordained a Priest 1896 by James Hamilton
Ordained a elder 1907 by Edward [G___ ]
Ordained a Seventy Feb 26, 1917 by J Golden Kimball
Ordained High Priest July 13,1917 by [G__ Wooley (or Worley?)]
Written by Lucy Fredericka Phillips-Butterfield"
This record was written by Lucy Butterfield, daughter of my great great grandfather Alfred William Phillips (the father of my father's grandfather). Some of the information is missing or illegible on the copy I possess as noted, and I tried to preserve the punctuation and spelling as it was written. If you have an original or full copy of the record, please let me know what needs to be changed and I will be happy to update the post :)
Sunday, October 28, 2012
I Have Something to Say,
but I'm not sure how to say it. I suppose the best place to start would be why I never posted a second update of my recovery. While I suppose I had an out with the whole pneumonia thing, there is an underlying and much deeper reason for my delay. I was lonely.
All who know me know that I value my space. Growing up with so many siblings in such a quick succession, and frequently having very different desires and opinions from them, made me very possessive and territorial at a very young age. Not uncommon in large families, when all is said and done. That doesn't really make it any easier. After high school ended and college began I found more ways to take time out for myself to do what I wanted (which mostly amounted to reading books and going to movies), and I found ways to enjoy doing things by myself. I take myself shopping, take myself to dinner, take myself for long car rides and to movies. Truth be told I've been to at least as many movies on my own as with others, at least as far as the last decade goes.
I enjoyed this solitude for many years, at least for the most part. Not having to worry about which movie to see, having to wait until its convenient for someone else, picking whatever restaurant suited my mood. I found, though, that as more time passed it became more about choosing to spend time alone, rather than having to spend time alone. I chose to take myself to this or that movie, instead of bemoaning the fact that I was home. Alone. Still. The movie was a very welcome distraction, the bookstores a welcoming refuge of books eager to be read, characters waiting for me to discover them.
I don't live my life dwelling on this. For the most part it never enters my mind. I work, I go to church, I spend time with family. I am content and at peace with who I am and what I do. I've actually been more comfortable with myself and my single status over the last few months than I've been for the last few years, after going through the temple and drawing closer to my Savior. There are times, though, where it becomes a little more obvious. A little harder to find the simple joy that comes from being my own person.
As my dad in particular can attest, it usually comes around this time of year--about the middle or so of November through the middle or so of March--the holiday season through my birthday and a couple of weeks beyond. There's a reason why this time period is so cliche'd as being depressing for singles, and I am not immune to it. I find myself buying more books, going to more movies, spending more time at restaurants alone.
This year, however, it began a little earlier. I can usually shake it off at work (being a toy store manager during the holiday season has certain workaholic advantages for those seeking distraction from personal crises), but this time it was not an option. I was away from work for surgery recovery and pneumonia. Work was not even close to being an option, unfortunately. While early on in my recovery I was totally cool being alone, this got harder and harder as time passed. It came to the point that I was literaly sobbing, desperate to just be held by someone who loved me and wanted to be with me through it, and not just there out of some sense of duty or obligation. I will forever be grateful for my niece Jane, who had come back to my apartment several times that day to talk to me, and even gave me a hug before she left. Even with that, though, I swore that I would never have surgery again until I had someone there with me. I still feel that way. Given an option I'll wait, thank you very much.
I'm not saying this for want of pity. Truth be told I don't really know why I'm saying this, aside from a feeling that I wanted it posted. I'm not looking forward to another Christmas season alone. Part of me acknowledges that maybe this year will be the first one when I'm not alone, that just maybe this will be the year that someone falls in love with me, and I with him. This gets a little harder every year. Just know, though, that I'm not "desperate". I don't need a man to complete me, to be whole as a person or to move forward in and enjoy my life.
Just over six years ago, on Trek, a letter was read from a single sister. While I don't remember the bulk of the letter, the impression lingers. She spoke of the struggle to keep her heart open, to not become bitter or cold in loneliness. I think that's the message I want to share. That no matter what the future holds, I trust the Lord's time table. I'll keep my heart open, and wait with patience and faith. So if you see me in a somber moment, lingering on the edges of the group or slipping away briefly from a family gathering, just know that in the end these moments will make my joy all the sweeter.
All who know me know that I value my space. Growing up with so many siblings in such a quick succession, and frequently having very different desires and opinions from them, made me very possessive and territorial at a very young age. Not uncommon in large families, when all is said and done. That doesn't really make it any easier. After high school ended and college began I found more ways to take time out for myself to do what I wanted (which mostly amounted to reading books and going to movies), and I found ways to enjoy doing things by myself. I take myself shopping, take myself to dinner, take myself for long car rides and to movies. Truth be told I've been to at least as many movies on my own as with others, at least as far as the last decade goes.
I enjoyed this solitude for many years, at least for the most part. Not having to worry about which movie to see, having to wait until its convenient for someone else, picking whatever restaurant suited my mood. I found, though, that as more time passed it became more about choosing to spend time alone, rather than having to spend time alone. I chose to take myself to this or that movie, instead of bemoaning the fact that I was home. Alone. Still. The movie was a very welcome distraction, the bookstores a welcoming refuge of books eager to be read, characters waiting for me to discover them.
I don't live my life dwelling on this. For the most part it never enters my mind. I work, I go to church, I spend time with family. I am content and at peace with who I am and what I do. I've actually been more comfortable with myself and my single status over the last few months than I've been for the last few years, after going through the temple and drawing closer to my Savior. There are times, though, where it becomes a little more obvious. A little harder to find the simple joy that comes from being my own person.
As my dad in particular can attest, it usually comes around this time of year--about the middle or so of November through the middle or so of March--the holiday season through my birthday and a couple of weeks beyond. There's a reason why this time period is so cliche'd as being depressing for singles, and I am not immune to it. I find myself buying more books, going to more movies, spending more time at restaurants alone.
This year, however, it began a little earlier. I can usually shake it off at work (being a toy store manager during the holiday season has certain workaholic advantages for those seeking distraction from personal crises), but this time it was not an option. I was away from work for surgery recovery and pneumonia. Work was not even close to being an option, unfortunately. While early on in my recovery I was totally cool being alone, this got harder and harder as time passed. It came to the point that I was literaly sobbing, desperate to just be held by someone who loved me and wanted to be with me through it, and not just there out of some sense of duty or obligation. I will forever be grateful for my niece Jane, who had come back to my apartment several times that day to talk to me, and even gave me a hug before she left. Even with that, though, I swore that I would never have surgery again until I had someone there with me. I still feel that way. Given an option I'll wait, thank you very much.
I'm not saying this for want of pity. Truth be told I don't really know why I'm saying this, aside from a feeling that I wanted it posted. I'm not looking forward to another Christmas season alone. Part of me acknowledges that maybe this year will be the first one when I'm not alone, that just maybe this will be the year that someone falls in love with me, and I with him. This gets a little harder every year. Just know, though, that I'm not "desperate". I don't need a man to complete me, to be whole as a person or to move forward in and enjoy my life.
Just over six years ago, on Trek, a letter was read from a single sister. While I don't remember the bulk of the letter, the impression lingers. She spoke of the struggle to keep her heart open, to not become bitter or cold in loneliness. I think that's the message I want to share. That no matter what the future holds, I trust the Lord's time table. I'll keep my heart open, and wait with patience and faith. So if you see me in a somber moment, lingering on the edges of the group or slipping away briefly from a family gathering, just know that in the end these moments will make my joy all the sweeter.
Wednesday, September 12, 2012
Up To and Including Days One through Six
I had initially thought to do more regular posts of my surgery and recovery, but I'm at the end of day six and here we are, my first report. In the interest of not being gruesome, I opted to not post pictures ;) I do find myself struggling in the creativity category, so please bear with my dry, more factual account.
Working where I do, it is not uncommon for me to catch a cold. When I have, historically, my tonsils took particular care to let me know, swelling nice and large regardless of the duration of whatever symptoms I may have had. The last few times I've gone to my clinic (noting that my history almost always included swollen tonsils) I've been asked if I'd considered seeing an ENT (ears nose throat specialist). I was told that if your tonsils swell more than 3 to 5 times a year, it is frequently recommended to have them removed. I blew this off the first couple of times I heard it, but the time came when I decided ignoring it probably wasn't a good idea anymore.
About a month ago, my tonsils once again got large. I figured that my tonsils were giving me a warning signal that I was getting a cold. Sigh. I called an ENT that day and set an appointment for August 24th, figuring that while my symptoms may be gone by the time I got there a week and a half later, I could at least get an idea of what might happen, given that this was my eighth or ninth time of them swelling this year. Oddly enough, even though I never did really get the sniffles or a painful sore throat, my tonsils stayed nice and big. Not only that, I began having difficulty sleeping at night, waking frequently unless I was absolutely exhausted. That didn't take long, frankly. By the time I got in to see the ENT, I was a little desperate for sleep.
At that point, he essentially told me I had two options-wait until I actually did get sick, at which point my tonsils would make it even harder to breathe and possibly create a medical emergency, or get them taken out now. As nervous as it made me, I opted for the second. Surgery was scheduled for September 6th. He also mentioned the possibility of taking out half my uvula, which was also enlarged to the point of causing problems.
No surprise, this freaked me out a bit. There were a few times I panicked, but ultimately I made it through with the support of family, friends, and a great blessing of comfort. The day hadn't even dawned on the 6th when Amy and I pulled up to the hospital (thanks again, Amy! you're the best!) for the procedure, listed as a tonsillectomy and uvulectomy. I thought he'd only take half of the uvula, but I later found only a little nub where it had been...so much for that theory. Ah well. Anyways, I'm told the procedure went well, and I was an ideal recovery patient, drinking plenty of water and pleasing my nurses. I vaguely recall asking to have my oxygen removed, and being told to take a deep breath, but not much else. After Amy got me home and helped get me set up on my couch, I slept for a couple of hours. Upon waking, all I really thought of was taking my meds and wishing someone had let me know I'd put my shirt on backwards ;)
I started a Top Gear marathon that day, and slept surprisingly well that night. The next day I kept ice on my throat, took my meds, continued the Top Gear marathon, did four blog posts, hosted guests (thanks Shaunelle, Shannon and Sherilyn!), and started in on a major Sudoku phase. I felt surprisingly good, all things considered, but knew that the worse times in recovery were ahead. Once again I slept fairly well, and wasn't surprised when my throat hurt a little more the next day. On with the sudoku and Top Gear.
Days three and four were progressively a little worse, not just on the throat front but in general. I figured this was just the anesthesia finally wearing off and didn't worry too much, but did fill the ice bag more frequently to keep my throat as numb as possible.
Day five, yesterday, was different. I developed a fever. I knew that it wasn't uncommon, and had run a degree or so higher than usual, but I had thought that was only supposed to be for the first couple of days. I continued to feel more and more lousy, though. I slept more, and was very sore all over, more than could be accounted for by a couple of days laying around. Just before ten pm my fever was over 100 degrees. After calling a 24/7 nurse hotline, and consulting my parents, the decision was made to go to the hospital.
We waited for 2 hours. Remind me to pick a different emergency room next time. Mom had taken me, then dad came and relieved her so that she could sleep for work the next day. Thanks, mom and dad, you are both awesome :). After 2 hours, though, I was done. I decided that if I wasn't going to get seen soon I would just go home, and I let them know. At that moment, the nurse had come up to call me back. Well, better late than never, eh? I figured at that point it was probably overkill, but since I was there and the paperwork was already filled out, well, may as well see it through. Not to mention I was thoroughly miserable. Entirely. I didn't even want to walk, using a wheelchair because I was soo tired and shaky.
A bunch of questions and a chest x-ray later, I was diagnosed with pneumonia. Good thing I didn't just leave, eh? At least I had an answer. I was justifiably weak, sore and tired, and not just a hypochondriac.
Day six has been an odd basket. I've done less today than on any other day of recovery thus far, except perhaps the first. I've slept more today than any other day, and finally cheated on the hard sudoku puzzles when my mind wanted something to do but couldn't come up with even just one more number after five or ten minutes of staring at the same puzzle. I gave in on watching Top Gear straight through and have just been picking some of my favorite episodes, including the Lorry episode and the Quaint my Ride episode (definitely youtube worthy segments!). Thanks, Christian, for picking up my prescription when I was forbidden to leave the house. There's probably a good reason for that, I guess that its just hard sometimes for me to justify staying at home when there's so much that can be done.
Well, its bedtime. Stay tuned for more updates, I'll probably post on facebook again when I do my next blog post. G'night!
Working where I do, it is not uncommon for me to catch a cold. When I have, historically, my tonsils took particular care to let me know, swelling nice and large regardless of the duration of whatever symptoms I may have had. The last few times I've gone to my clinic (noting that my history almost always included swollen tonsils) I've been asked if I'd considered seeing an ENT (ears nose throat specialist). I was told that if your tonsils swell more than 3 to 5 times a year, it is frequently recommended to have them removed. I blew this off the first couple of times I heard it, but the time came when I decided ignoring it probably wasn't a good idea anymore.
About a month ago, my tonsils once again got large. I figured that my tonsils were giving me a warning signal that I was getting a cold. Sigh. I called an ENT that day and set an appointment for August 24th, figuring that while my symptoms may be gone by the time I got there a week and a half later, I could at least get an idea of what might happen, given that this was my eighth or ninth time of them swelling this year. Oddly enough, even though I never did really get the sniffles or a painful sore throat, my tonsils stayed nice and big. Not only that, I began having difficulty sleeping at night, waking frequently unless I was absolutely exhausted. That didn't take long, frankly. By the time I got in to see the ENT, I was a little desperate for sleep.
At that point, he essentially told me I had two options-wait until I actually did get sick, at which point my tonsils would make it even harder to breathe and possibly create a medical emergency, or get them taken out now. As nervous as it made me, I opted for the second. Surgery was scheduled for September 6th. He also mentioned the possibility of taking out half my uvula, which was also enlarged to the point of causing problems.
No surprise, this freaked me out a bit. There were a few times I panicked, but ultimately I made it through with the support of family, friends, and a great blessing of comfort. The day hadn't even dawned on the 6th when Amy and I pulled up to the hospital (thanks again, Amy! you're the best!) for the procedure, listed as a tonsillectomy and uvulectomy. I thought he'd only take half of the uvula, but I later found only a little nub where it had been...so much for that theory. Ah well. Anyways, I'm told the procedure went well, and I was an ideal recovery patient, drinking plenty of water and pleasing my nurses. I vaguely recall asking to have my oxygen removed, and being told to take a deep breath, but not much else. After Amy got me home and helped get me set up on my couch, I slept for a couple of hours. Upon waking, all I really thought of was taking my meds and wishing someone had let me know I'd put my shirt on backwards ;)
I started a Top Gear marathon that day, and slept surprisingly well that night. The next day I kept ice on my throat, took my meds, continued the Top Gear marathon, did four blog posts, hosted guests (thanks Shaunelle, Shannon and Sherilyn!), and started in on a major Sudoku phase. I felt surprisingly good, all things considered, but knew that the worse times in recovery were ahead. Once again I slept fairly well, and wasn't surprised when my throat hurt a little more the next day. On with the sudoku and Top Gear.
Days three and four were progressively a little worse, not just on the throat front but in general. I figured this was just the anesthesia finally wearing off and didn't worry too much, but did fill the ice bag more frequently to keep my throat as numb as possible.
Day five, yesterday, was different. I developed a fever. I knew that it wasn't uncommon, and had run a degree or so higher than usual, but I had thought that was only supposed to be for the first couple of days. I continued to feel more and more lousy, though. I slept more, and was very sore all over, more than could be accounted for by a couple of days laying around. Just before ten pm my fever was over 100 degrees. After calling a 24/7 nurse hotline, and consulting my parents, the decision was made to go to the hospital.
We waited for 2 hours. Remind me to pick a different emergency room next time. Mom had taken me, then dad came and relieved her so that she could sleep for work the next day. Thanks, mom and dad, you are both awesome :). After 2 hours, though, I was done. I decided that if I wasn't going to get seen soon I would just go home, and I let them know. At that moment, the nurse had come up to call me back. Well, better late than never, eh? I figured at that point it was probably overkill, but since I was there and the paperwork was already filled out, well, may as well see it through. Not to mention I was thoroughly miserable. Entirely. I didn't even want to walk, using a wheelchair because I was soo tired and shaky.
A bunch of questions and a chest x-ray later, I was diagnosed with pneumonia. Good thing I didn't just leave, eh? At least I had an answer. I was justifiably weak, sore and tired, and not just a hypochondriac.
Day six has been an odd basket. I've done less today than on any other day of recovery thus far, except perhaps the first. I've slept more today than any other day, and finally cheated on the hard sudoku puzzles when my mind wanted something to do but couldn't come up with even just one more number after five or ten minutes of staring at the same puzzle. I gave in on watching Top Gear straight through and have just been picking some of my favorite episodes, including the Lorry episode and the Quaint my Ride episode (definitely youtube worthy segments!). Thanks, Christian, for picking up my prescription when I was forbidden to leave the house. There's probably a good reason for that, I guess that its just hard sometimes for me to justify staying at home when there's so much that can be done.
Well, its bedtime. Stay tuned for more updates, I'll probably post on facebook again when I do my next blog post. G'night!
Friday, September 7, 2012
Camping Trip: S'mores, Styling, and other Stuff
Here is the last selection of excerpts from our family reunion this summer. Enjoy!!!
I thought she was just sticky!!
Have you ever noticed how bossy our family is?
Stop talking! We don't have paper
You're glittery like a vampire in the sun.
Like Michael's neck
I'm holding my face
Do you see this? This is me staring at something
Roast me a marshmallow make me a s'more but don't move
Christopher will you spray me?
Amy your face is awful.
The day that I was mad and got a scar forever.
Amy Smells
Like the Ocean
Rain is on that leash. Be careful!
I'm gonna pause and eat a s'more now
We all have headlights.
More than halfway done, right? No, 'cause you're super thick
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 yay!
I actually still have my other cracker! Oh, I don't. I ate it.
I don't think anyones gonna notice one standing out looking dumber than the rest
The more I do the lighter it gets!
Oh no, I need to start a mystery!
Here, this is for a grandkid to play with
Run away, run away!
I want to leave this in at least until dad comes so he can shake his head and roll his eyes
No, that is my chair. She hauled it all the way over here. And now I'm sitting on the table.
Weren't Christian and Ben wearing matching shirts yesterday?
Do we care if they're running away?
Thank you for not dropping that in the fire.
I have a camo one. I thought you said camel.
Don't tell dad that.
He would laugh too.
No, it was you, take credit, take credit!
Jane said I'm not good enough to do braids, only grandma. I am proving her wrong!
You pet moose very nicely, thank you!
Who else gets angry when they're tired? (gasp!) Amy!
She's writing everything down! Mom, you have a big head!
We're really funny
Deborah laughed, she's gonna write it down.
Deborah's laughing at me. And writing things down.
Get Amy, go tickle her!
Sarah just told Megan to come tickle me. I don't know how I feel about that.
Pointy little toes!
He stares. He's like, the master of stares.
Can I put my glasses on?
She's gonna tell you a secret
Every time I tickle the girls, Dalton comes to save the day. He's a knight, he's very good at it.
Do you have a white car in spot 39?
It wasn't funny. But it will be when we read it back.
Ok, don't write it down, Michael said not to.
Write what down
What down
If you say my name, I will hold you. All day.
It's hot! Quick, grab a baby!
The stick is hot you should poke someone with it.
There just keeps being more hair!
I put 14 braids in everyones hair. Then there would be no fire.
Deborah, write that down.
I don't care if my kids eat dirt, only if its on them.
Don't write that down, its poor parenting.
You can mark that as anonymous.
It feels really breezy!
Do you want to hold a baby? He sings.
What was that? Nothin. What was it?
Mom's got braided horns now!
Um Christopher? It sounds like maybe we could use you on crowd control
Will you let go of my pants now?
And I know Amy's dying to have one now.
Chase has learned the art of the fade-away
At least its an organized frenzy
The notebook won't cry.
What? Will you burn the baby?!
Mom, your hair is horribly gray now
My hair braided that picture
(as a side note, I didn't know hair could braid pictures)
Ok, we're in the home stretch
Just do one more big one
Michael is behind these branches. How do we get past these branches?
We got him laughing
It was mostly Jane and Sarah. Occasionally we'd get a good Deborah
We can be quiet without being in bed
Michael is in dark clothes, so he's starting to blend in
I'll be glad when you're not pulling my hair anymore.
I feel like I should feel bad, but I don't.
Can't chase me by the fire.
She's just going like this on his chin!
Only three more, mom! Yay!
I would have giggled really hard every time mom walked away
It looks like covert ops braiding!
Will you get that on youtube? His little chin thing? It would go viral!
You fell down? That's a whole lot better than falling up.
One last braid then I'll stop pulling your hair
I'll trade you babies if you want to trade
Its really really dark mommy. Really really dark.
I owe you a dime, no I don't.
Stop tickling my head.
This one is sticking straight out! Well, go sleep on it.
We're kind of laughing at the collective.
You're kindof lopsided now
I made you a s'more. Love me.
They melted to each other? Were they bad marshmallows?
I'm gonna find my husband, anyone want a baby?
I put it on Laura's head.
That's not funny, that's just normal.
K, I see a star, I can go to bed now, right?
I'm the father, I know.
You're drippy. Being drippy's not funny.
Go hang it on dad's walker outside.
Does any of this go in the fridge? Does your face go in the fridge? No, but my hair might.
Write that down
That down
Aspens all reproduce asexually so they all have the same DNA.
I thought she was just sticky!!
Have you ever noticed how bossy our family is?
Stop talking! We don't have paper
You're glittery like a vampire in the sun.
Like Michael's neck
I'm holding my face
Do you see this? This is me staring at something
Roast me a marshmallow make me a s'more but don't move
Christopher will you spray me?
Amy your face is awful.
The day that I was mad and got a scar forever.
Amy Smells
Like the Ocean
Rain is on that leash. Be careful!
I'm gonna pause and eat a s'more now
We all have headlights.
More than halfway done, right? No, 'cause you're super thick
1 2 3 4 5 6 7 yay!
I actually still have my other cracker! Oh, I don't. I ate it.
I don't think anyones gonna notice one standing out looking dumber than the rest
The more I do the lighter it gets!
Oh no, I need to start a mystery!
Here, this is for a grandkid to play with
Run away, run away!
I want to leave this in at least until dad comes so he can shake his head and roll his eyes
No, that is my chair. She hauled it all the way over here. And now I'm sitting on the table.
Weren't Christian and Ben wearing matching shirts yesterday?
Do we care if they're running away?
Thank you for not dropping that in the fire.
I have a camo one. I thought you said camel.
Don't tell dad that.
He would laugh too.
No, it was you, take credit, take credit!
Jane said I'm not good enough to do braids, only grandma. I am proving her wrong!
You pet moose very nicely, thank you!
Who else gets angry when they're tired? (gasp!) Amy!
She's writing everything down! Mom, you have a big head!
We're really funny
Deborah laughed, she's gonna write it down.
Deborah's laughing at me. And writing things down.
Get Amy, go tickle her!
Sarah just told Megan to come tickle me. I don't know how I feel about that.
Pointy little toes!
He stares. He's like, the master of stares.
Can I put my glasses on?
She's gonna tell you a secret
Every time I tickle the girls, Dalton comes to save the day. He's a knight, he's very good at it.
Do you have a white car in spot 39?
It wasn't funny. But it will be when we read it back.
Ok, don't write it down, Michael said not to.
Write what down
What down
If you say my name, I will hold you. All day.
It's hot! Quick, grab a baby!
The stick is hot you should poke someone with it.
There just keeps being more hair!
I put 14 braids in everyones hair. Then there would be no fire.
Deborah, write that down.
I don't care if my kids eat dirt, only if its on them.
Don't write that down, its poor parenting.
You can mark that as anonymous.
It feels really breezy!
Do you want to hold a baby? He sings.
What was that? Nothin. What was it?
Mom's got braided horns now!
Um Christopher? It sounds like maybe we could use you on crowd control
Will you let go of my pants now?
And I know Amy's dying to have one now.
Chase has learned the art of the fade-away
At least its an organized frenzy
The notebook won't cry.
What? Will you burn the baby?!
Mom, your hair is horribly gray now
My hair braided that picture
(as a side note, I didn't know hair could braid pictures)
Ok, we're in the home stretch
Just do one more big one
Michael is behind these branches. How do we get past these branches?
We got him laughing
It was mostly Jane and Sarah. Occasionally we'd get a good Deborah
We can be quiet without being in bed
Michael is in dark clothes, so he's starting to blend in
I'll be glad when you're not pulling my hair anymore.
I feel like I should feel bad, but I don't.
Can't chase me by the fire.
She's just going like this on his chin!
Only three more, mom! Yay!
I would have giggled really hard every time mom walked away
It looks like covert ops braiding!
Will you get that on youtube? His little chin thing? It would go viral!
You fell down? That's a whole lot better than falling up.
One last braid then I'll stop pulling your hair
I'll trade you babies if you want to trade
Its really really dark mommy. Really really dark.
I owe you a dime, no I don't.
Stop tickling my head.
This one is sticking straight out! Well, go sleep on it.
We're kind of laughing at the collective.
You're kindof lopsided now
I made you a s'more. Love me.
They melted to each other? Were they bad marshmallows?
I'm gonna find my husband, anyone want a baby?
I put it on Laura's head.
That's not funny, that's just normal.
K, I see a star, I can go to bed now, right?
I'm the father, I know.
You're drippy. Being drippy's not funny.
Go hang it on dad's walker outside.
Does any of this go in the fridge? Does your face go in the fridge? No, but my hair might.
Write that down
That down
Aspens all reproduce asexually so they all have the same DNA.
Camping Trip: Game Time!
You spilled Diet Coke on your foot.
I thought it was doctors in the morgue.
It didn't ust fall out like yours. I had to spit it all in the sink.
I'll deal 'cause it lets me lean into Chase.
Here, my beautiful partner. Here, Chase's beautiful partner. Here, mom's absent partner.
Oh, my gosh.
I can only think of things that were funny for me, not for her. What about assault and battery?
I am only really good at poker. I can be serious when I have to be.
Amy, remember the time a correlle plate shattered in Marysville?
Save the notes on the quotes please
What did I say that I wanted to write down?
I just got this hot, who's holding a baby?
Just get me the cutest one.
My hotdog is black. That's racist.
Don't poke my hotdogs.
I don't want sweet relish. That would make me barf.
And a half.
Can't bust 'em. 'Cause your button says something.
Are you writing it down?
I'm always willing to start another fire.
She likes everything.
Ben lost his watermelon, do you want me to just pick it up and give it back? I let him drink out of the lake.
Christopher and Chase are not the same person.
Weird. I know, right?
No previews. Too late.
I was really glad I wasn't driving.
Made it that much funny.
Write that down.
Can you braid it right now? Get the tackle box.
I really do just have stupid hair on that side
Do you need more sustenance? 'Cause you're way too skinny
'Cept they weren't drinking it, so I had to dump it out on a kid.
You could have a whole bunch of braids sticking out.
I didn't get to brush mine. I don't care.
He just sat on me
It is fine, but there's a lot of it.
Yeah, she's thick.
When you camp in heaven you don't get dirty.
The Wamplers are gonna die.
That sounds harsh.
Use your finger, I won't tell.
I thought it was doctors in the morgue.
It didn't ust fall out like yours. I had to spit it all in the sink.
I'll deal 'cause it lets me lean into Chase.
Here, my beautiful partner. Here, Chase's beautiful partner. Here, mom's absent partner.
Oh, my gosh.
I can only think of things that were funny for me, not for her. What about assault and battery?
I am only really good at poker. I can be serious when I have to be.
Amy, remember the time a correlle plate shattered in Marysville?
Save the notes on the quotes please
What did I say that I wanted to write down?
I just got this hot, who's holding a baby?
Just get me the cutest one.
My hotdog is black. That's racist.
Don't poke my hotdogs.
I don't want sweet relish. That would make me barf.
And a half.
Can't bust 'em. 'Cause your button says something.
Are you writing it down?
I'm always willing to start another fire.
She likes everything.
Ben lost his watermelon, do you want me to just pick it up and give it back? I let him drink out of the lake.
Christopher and Chase are not the same person.
Weird. I know, right?
No previews. Too late.
I was really glad I wasn't driving.
Made it that much funny.
Write that down.
Can you braid it right now? Get the tackle box.
I really do just have stupid hair on that side
Do you need more sustenance? 'Cause you're way too skinny
'Cept they weren't drinking it, so I had to dump it out on a kid.
You could have a whole bunch of braids sticking out.
I didn't get to brush mine. I don't care.
He just sat on me
It is fine, but there's a lot of it.
Yeah, she's thick.
When you camp in heaven you don't get dirty.
The Wamplers are gonna die.
That sounds harsh.
Use your finger, I won't tell.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)