This treatment is killing me. I can't move my legs or the lower part of my body and my arms are too weak to hold a glass of kool-aid (I dropped it, making a terrible mess). My convulsive twitching is out of control and I'm praying my "Hail Mary's" the whole way through the seizure-like things. My speech has quickly gone downhill. I can't talk at all sometimes, and lots of times I stutter and can't get my words out.
You know when you're truly in love with someone or are great friends when you can't speak, but they know what's going through your mind. Yesterday night, I couldn't speak whatsoever. I needed to say a lot of things...I'm hurting, I cam't move at all, I don't want dinner, I feel sick. Most importantly, I wanted to say "I love you" to my family. Somehow they knew from the look in my eyes, and we hugged and cried together. They knew I needed comfort, and they were there. My brother was going to a party at a friends house yesterday night. I needed to tell him my usual "don't drink whatsoever, don't let any of your intoxicated friends drive, come home if you're not comfortable there" etc. He knows all of this, but as his little sister, I remind him constantly. Not being able to talk or stand up to get him, I tugged at his shirt. He knew exactly what I meant by the look in my eyes.
Lesson Learned? Even though I'm addicted to talking and do so nonstop, words aren't always needed. Simple quiet gestures sometime show it greater...a hug, kiss on the cheek, simple smiling, holding someones hand... They're simple, but say it all + more!
Monday, July 5, 2010
Friday, July 2, 2010
My Sweet Escape ♥
I'm going to be a senior this school year. I had not been to the beach since 6th grade. Six years without my ocean, my "take my breath away, inspiring ocean". My momma and grandma realized how much I needed to escape, and planned a surprise trip to Ocean City/Assateague Island. I was SO excited that I packed 2.5 weeks before we were leaving. It was a dream come true. Over the last couple weeks whenever I herx'd (while being delusional), I kept saying: "I'm going to the beach, I will be okay; I'm going to the beach, I will be okay." Momma and Grandma did just that.
When I stepped onto Assateague beach, I cried from happiness. The salty smell in the air, the sand giving me a natural pedicure, the waves dancing onto the shore, made me feel relaxed, soothed, and extremely happy. My little cousins ran through the waves splashing each other, laughing their way to a tummy ache. My mom and grandma stood with me, where the waves just refreshed our feet, holding hands. Three generations, holding hands, loving each other, loving life. This was a precious memory, one that I'll remember forever. Being there is just what I needed this summer...an escape from the bed I lay in all day too nauseous to move, a place where I didn't have to think before I talked which saved me from stuttering, a place where I didn't needed to be distracted from my pain. The beach was magical, and took away all of my fear and worries.
I sat on the shore line with my two year-old cousin, my aunt/bff, and my momma. I watched the waves slowly crawl onto the shore, listened to the sound that only oceans make, and watched the sun glisten on the tide.
If anything, I learned to see things differently; to see the beauty of little things; and to enjoy the small stuff. And most importantly, I questioned, "How can there NOT be a God?!"
When I stepped onto Assateague beach, I cried from happiness. The salty smell in the air, the sand giving me a natural pedicure, the waves dancing onto the shore, made me feel relaxed, soothed, and extremely happy. My little cousins ran through the waves splashing each other, laughing their way to a tummy ache. My mom and grandma stood with me, where the waves just refreshed our feet, holding hands. Three generations, holding hands, loving each other, loving life. This was a precious memory, one that I'll remember forever. Being there is just what I needed this summer...an escape from the bed I lay in all day too nauseous to move, a place where I didn't have to think before I talked which saved me from stuttering, a place where I didn't needed to be distracted from my pain. The beach was magical, and took away all of my fear and worries.
I sat on the shore line with my two year-old cousin, my aunt/bff, and my momma. I watched the waves slowly crawl onto the shore, listened to the sound that only oceans make, and watched the sun glisten on the tide.
If anything, I learned to see things differently; to see the beauty of little things; and to enjoy the small stuff. And most importantly, I questioned, "How can there NOT be a God?!"
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