I have a test this week in O Chem. I also have a test this week in Microbiology.
I don't have as big a problem with Microbiology as I do with O Chem. I. JUST. DON'T. GET. IT. At all. I'm trying so desperately to get everything down, and then I look at the study guide and the previous exams given in this class, and I want to cry. Well, I have cried. But it wouldn't be Chemistry without crying, right? It's baseball where there's no crying.
So today was my second of four deep cleansing with Isagenix. As soon as I sat down this evening to start working on homework I still haven't started because I can't stop crying, I realized that I needed something to eat. On deep cleanse days, there is no eating. Just drinking water. And some more water. And this powder mixed in with water that I have to plug my nose to get down my throat because it really tastes like vomit. And then some more water.
Well, I'm a stress eater. I've known that for a while now, but DAMN. I succumbed and ate a bowl of Raisin Bran. I didn't add any sugar. Then I ate some kind of popcorn stuff that had sugar on it. Now I have this nasty aftertaste and I want to go into the bathroom and throw it all up because I'm freaked out about this week and I feel guilty for eating a bowl of cereal.
And then follow it with a water chaser.
And then cry some more.
Sunday, January 30, 2011
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Uggh!
I think there needs to a mandate put out by UVU stating that all professors are to profess (notice I said that and not teach? Yeah, it's because they don't teach. Professors tell. Teachers teach.) in a way that is easy for ALL learning styles to actually LEARN. I am struggling with my O Chem class right now because all the guy does is talk. There are slides, but they don't have details on them. I'm so busy trying to write down the details he's saying that by the time I get what it is he's saying written on paper, he's moved on to the next two slides and I'm lost again. We've only been in class for 3 weeks and we're already on chapter 5 and I am still trying to figure out chapter 2.
On the other hand my Microbiology professor only uses slides, but he actually discusses things with us and spends at least 10 minutes on each slide, telling us examples and about experiments and things like that. I understand that.
Sorry to vent. I'm just really frustrated. Not only with the class but at the fact that I played hooky because I'm so frustrated with the class and all I've done is decompress and eat two spoonfuls of peanut butter. Totally not with my program.
On the other hand my Microbiology professor only uses slides, but he actually discusses things with us and spends at least 10 minutes on each slide, telling us examples and about experiments and things like that. I understand that.
Sorry to vent. I'm just really frustrated. Not only with the class but at the fact that I played hooky because I'm so frustrated with the class and all I've done is decompress and eat two spoonfuls of peanut butter. Totally not with my program.
Thursday, January 13, 2011
Not very crafty...
But it is noteworthy. In my attempts to whip my butt in gear this year and accomplish goals that I've had intentions on completing, I decided to be proactive about it instead of being all talk, minimal action, and no results. Sooo... There's a new man in my life. This is his picture.
His name is Scott Swift. He's my friend, and now my personal trainer. I know the cost is up there for one of those types of people, but if I'm going to get my physical state to where I want it to be, I have to do more than make the commitment to go to the gym and not have any accountability. Plus it's a bonus to have someone who knows what it is I need to accomplish some of my goals.
Like being able to run. I hate running. I have too many jiggly parts.
I'm also going to get into triathlon shape and start participating in smaller scale triathlons this year in hopes of being able to possibly (one day) complete an IronMan. Or IronWoman.
I'd much rather participate in an IronMan, though, since maybe Robert Downey, Jr. would be the grand prize.
His name is Scott Swift. He's my friend, and now my personal trainer. I know the cost is up there for one of those types of people, but if I'm going to get my physical state to where I want it to be, I have to do more than make the commitment to go to the gym and not have any accountability. Plus it's a bonus to have someone who knows what it is I need to accomplish some of my goals. Like being able to run. I hate running. I have too many jiggly parts.
I'm also going to get into triathlon shape and start participating in smaller scale triathlons this year in hopes of being able to possibly (one day) complete an IronMan. Or IronWoman.
I'd much rather participate in an IronMan, though, since maybe Robert Downey, Jr. would be the grand prize.
Tuesday, January 11, 2011
Bullet? Dodged. Again.
My phone is lost and dead. I'm too exhausted to go look for it right now. To avoid having to recant the story several times, I'm writing it down and sending you the link. I've talked to several of you over the phone and through texts. While some of you have sent texts or called and I may or may not have responded or called you back, please, please don't take offense.
After the motorcycle accident, Rod was complaining about shoulder pain. He went to physical therapy and was told that his shoulder was making no improvements, but in fact was getting worse. After starting to discover that the rotation in his shoulder was slowly getting worse, he scheduled an appt. to have it looked at, which resulted in an MRI, which resulted in his scheduled surgery yesterday.
During surgery at some point, Rod stopped breathing. He turned blue. Not a light blue, but blue like.... BLUE as this color. The surgery was textbook but his having stopped breathing is what obviously caused all the problems. He was on the brink of dying, even with the intubation. That's all I know and that's all I want to know. When they came and got me to come back to the recovery area, I saw Rod sitting up with an O2 mask on. He was gray. After taking a sip of water, he said that he was feeling nauseated. Then we went through that part of recovery. Because he took his mask off, his saturation levels started dropping immediately. Once we were able to get him taken care of and cleaned up, another rush of nausea hit (we were prepared for it that time) and the mask came off again, causing his numbers to drop like lead. The O2 was put back on. After about 2 hours of that, she came and took him off the O2 and gave him one of those fancy breathing things and told him he needed to inhale to a certain level. He was only about halfway there. She wanted him to work on getting his saturation level back up in the 90s on his own. Wasn't happening. She got him up and walking around to see if that would change anything. Nope. Had him sit in a recliner. Nope. Every time his mask came off he'd start turning colors and his eyes would start rolling around in his head. After 4 hours in recovery, they discharged him with a tank of O2, set up the delivery of an O2 grandma-sized machine to the house, and strict instructions to keep it on all day, all night, hooked up to his CPAP machine, use it for 72 hours, and the recommendation to see a pulmonologist as soon as possible. If it weren't for the O2 tank, Rod would probably still be in the hospital, and to think this is all because of shoulder surgery. We were told that his sleep apnea played into the scheme of things and that it was magnified by the nerve block and anesthesia. I just pray that this is his last surgery, and that his body never has to go through that again. I'm exhausted, it's been a long 48 hours. We appreciate the well wishes, the calls, texts, and prayers that have been offered on his behalf. Prayer is a powerful thing.
After the motorcycle accident, Rod was complaining about shoulder pain. He went to physical therapy and was told that his shoulder was making no improvements, but in fact was getting worse. After starting to discover that the rotation in his shoulder was slowly getting worse, he scheduled an appt. to have it looked at, which resulted in an MRI, which resulted in his scheduled surgery yesterday.
During surgery at some point, Rod stopped breathing. He turned blue. Not a light blue, but blue like.... BLUE as this color. The surgery was textbook but his having stopped breathing is what obviously caused all the problems. He was on the brink of dying, even with the intubation. That's all I know and that's all I want to know. When they came and got me to come back to the recovery area, I saw Rod sitting up with an O2 mask on. He was gray. After taking a sip of water, he said that he was feeling nauseated. Then we went through that part of recovery. Because he took his mask off, his saturation levels started dropping immediately. Once we were able to get him taken care of and cleaned up, another rush of nausea hit (we were prepared for it that time) and the mask came off again, causing his numbers to drop like lead. The O2 was put back on. After about 2 hours of that, she came and took him off the O2 and gave him one of those fancy breathing things and told him he needed to inhale to a certain level. He was only about halfway there. She wanted him to work on getting his saturation level back up in the 90s on his own. Wasn't happening. She got him up and walking around to see if that would change anything. Nope. Had him sit in a recliner. Nope. Every time his mask came off he'd start turning colors and his eyes would start rolling around in his head. After 4 hours in recovery, they discharged him with a tank of O2, set up the delivery of an O2 grandma-sized machine to the house, and strict instructions to keep it on all day, all night, hooked up to his CPAP machine, use it for 72 hours, and the recommendation to see a pulmonologist as soon as possible. If it weren't for the O2 tank, Rod would probably still be in the hospital, and to think this is all because of shoulder surgery. We were told that his sleep apnea played into the scheme of things and that it was magnified by the nerve block and anesthesia. I just pray that this is his last surgery, and that his body never has to go through that again. I'm exhausted, it's been a long 48 hours. We appreciate the well wishes, the calls, texts, and prayers that have been offered on his behalf. Prayer is a powerful thing.
Monday, January 3, 2011
Sara
I came across this when I was cleaning out my craft room and I have been weepy ever since. This sweet girl was my friend in 1st grade. She left such a huge, huge imprint on my heart that to this day, she is a huge reason why I want to be in pediatric oncology. People ask me why I want to go into a field that's full of lows and not many highs. My response? I love these kids. I love them more than words can express. I want to be there with them while they go through that stage in their lives. I want to be there for the lows, for the highs, and everything in between. For my friend, Sara, for all the children who have ever had cancer, and for all the children who will face cancer, I'm going to make it, and I'm going to be there with you.
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