Behold it is I, procrastination. I keep telling Corinne that there will be time to complete the school work she is assigned, and I know that eventually time will run out. She has accomplished nothing this week. She had surgery this week, a lung biopsy. It was very painful she had a tube sticking out of her side for a day and could hardly breathe. She's had today to recover from it and still managed to get nothing done. In her mind the excuse is that the doctors had to give her benadryl so she wouldn't react to a certain medication they're giving her, but I know that it's just me. I am causing her not to do her work. She doesn't want to do it and I don't blame her, but she needs to suck it up and do it. She hasn't even began transplant yet, they still need to figure out what is in her lungs. It's really hard for her to be here but her excuses won't get the work done for her. I know she just wants to go to school everyday where everyone is doing the work all together and there is nothing else to do aside from the work. It would be much easier that way if she could go but they won't let her leave. She will be here for quite some time now and she doesn't really say how that makes her feel. I would imagine it makes her sad. It would make me sad. She puts everything off and requests more pain meds to push her back to sleep and dilute her pain but the pain cannot be stopped, and not just the physical. I wish there was something I could do for her but I can't, she needs to push through and do this on her own.
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I have 6 days until I am admitted, I should feel nervous and I feel calm. This week was rough physically, I had surgery on Monday for my port placement, my last day of high school on Tuesday, CT Scans in Grand Rapids on Wednesday which revealed nothing but anxiety aka nodules in my lungs, Thursday I cut my hair off because I need to get used to loss, and today, Friday, I have another procedure designed to further examine the nodules in my lungs. I pictured my last day of high school differently, crying with my friends because this chapter of our lives was over, all the memories and inside jokes. I didn't get that, but I did get kindness and a restored hope in humanity from my teachers. People who haven't known me for longer than three months, that go out of their way to help me.. I can't say this for all of the teachers I've had, but I have had a few back home and a couple here and I am blessed to know them and to have seen their smiling faces on my last day. All good things come to an end and it always paves the way to some kind of beginning, just so happens that my new beginning is my life. I really love disecting the poems of the week, these two were about life after death. It's something everyone thinks about and nobody is quite sure of. If you're a christian then you know Heaven and Hell but you've never been so you can't be prepared for what either fully entail. There are so many things people do in their lives to ensure that their spirit is clean by the time they die, and so many who don't care. Also the new lady who comes and observes the class ended up with my creative writing. I wrote about a fire leaving me with ashes, and she added that we can rise from the ashes. It was quite intruiging really, to see my usual depressive writing be rebuilt into a hopeful piece. I'm on a mission to find joy again. Is it in the form of God or a psychiatrist who will give me one of America's many "happy little pills." I don't know, but I hope Macbeth interests me. Another week away. Great start to the second tri, I guess it portends the rest of my school year. I was looking forward to Thanksgiving as we would be having a christmas party since I wont be here for Christmas, but like everyone should have expected, I got sick. Except this time it was for real. My tonsils were swollen, I couldn't move my neck and had a fever of 102.3. That's the highest it's gone since my appendix rupturing last year. This felt similar to that only minimal pain. Similar in that I asked God to forgive me for my senselessness because I thought I was going to die. A shame that's what made me do it. I made it to Grand Rapids in another ambulance fine. Stayed there for too long and they told me if they couldn't find an oral version of my antibiotic I'd have to stay for two weeks. I didn't cry in that moment, and I was proud. They found an oral version. So I left the next day, having missed my dentist appointment to get cavities filled because I was in the hospital. My doctors set up an appointment with a dentist in Grand rapids, we were all under the impression that I had four cavities that could lead to infection during transplant that I needed filled. The dentist in Grand Rapids said I had none. I don't know if that's God or if it's stupidty. I guess if I die from a gum infection we will know. I'm out now and am waiting for my surgery tomorrow. I get a broviac line placed in my chest. I had one before when I was supposed to have a transplant but they took it out. It's bittersweet because it means no more painful IV's, but it also means more scarring on my chest. An inconsequential side effect that will stay with me forever. I shouldn't care but I do. This encompases my week. This week was filled with more tragedy, not literally, but learning about it. I wasn't here, but I did read Antigone in the hospital and I actually enjoyed it. You would have to have such an imagination to come up with this story, as you would Oedipus. I wish I could have constructed something as amazing as that, but it definitely deepens my thinking process and I feel like a better person because I have read those plays. I went to visit my grandmother this weekend and to see my dog. She is the cutest thing you've ever seen. I didn't feel well on the way up to them but I suppressed it because I wanted to see my dog so much. She lives back in Manistee because she needs someone to take care of her until I can be home regularly to do it. I ended up with a fever and a drive down to Grand Rapids. I came to school on Friday, which I hate doing because it's the last day of the week, what's the point, but it always ends up being worth going. I wonder why I get sick so much often, obviously I know the medical reason but how can it be so easy to catch something that can turn fatal in a small matter of time. Medicine is fascinating when you aren't the person receiving it. Perhaps if this had never happened I would've pursued it, but after being surround by it for years, I've grown tired of it. Maybe that's the reason I should go into it, after all I only know about my problems and others similar to mine. But then I read these plays in class or novels filled with philosophy and I realize how much more there is to life than going to school for 12 more years because that's not what I'm supposed to do. I never want to have to look in the eyes of my patient and tell them their life is ending. |
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April 2017
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