Little Victories

A friend of mine posted something called "Little Victories" on her blog, and I really liked the idea, so I thought I would do the same thing here showcasing my own little victories. After all, it's the little things that keep us going, right?

As most of you know I no longer work, and staying home to recover has been, truly, a blessing. The bad days are certainly nothing to brag about, but I am grateful to be in the comfort of my own home to rest when I need to, cut myself off from the world, and just come to terms with how this whole thing has affected me. I've learned a lot about myself, and others, during this past year and I realize that focusing on the big things doesn't really get me anywhere. So! Here are my little victories of the past few weeks:

1. Despite feeling like dirt yesterday and having a bad night's sleep I decided to go to the gym anyway and work out on the elliptical machine that I love. I'm glad I did.

2. Even though my dad wasn't able to make it to the gym with me, I still went...by myself! That's a huge feat!

3. Made a new recipe called Salmon Spinach Bundles (super easy!). The result? Success, though James liked it much more than I did. I thought they were good, but I am envisioning many variations of the same thing. Next up: chicken and broccoli bundles or turkey and asparagus...the possibilities are endless.

4. I have slowly been able to organize parts of my home that I always wanted to, but never had a chance to before. I reorganized our entertainment center in the living room and have now begun to tackle the mess that is our study. This, my friends, will definitely take time.

Ok, well, it's still early this morning, so I am having a hard time thinking about anything else, but I will. Listing out my small victories help me feel better and realize that I have accomplished things despite not feeling so well. I think I'll do this again sometime with some more little victories.

Stupid Migraine

Today I had a migraine. It sucked. The end.

But I found this little cartoon by Migraine Chick that I found extremely funny. I hate migraines, but at least I have funny people like Migraine Chick to make me laugh a little.

Here's to a new week

This weekend has been pretty laid back, as all weekends should be I think. I woke up on Saturday morning still coming out of a dream I had that I thought would make a great book. I spent the next hour typing up a three page synopsis on what the book was about and now I can't wait to start writing it into a novel! (I feel so Stephenie Meyer-ish!) I read the synopsis to James and he thought it was great, so that made me feel good, too. I'm really excited about it. I like having projects to do. This week I will be working on character sketches and possibly writing some of the settings and back stories. I haven't given myself a deadline to complete the book because it's still early in the process. It's going to be fun though.

This week I surprisingly have a lot going on. My little brother is trying to earn some money to buy a laptop that is on sale. My dad told him that if he earns half of the money that he would pitch in the other half. I asked him if he wanted to come over and help me clear out the clutter that is our study and he said he would love to, so this week he'll be coming by for a couple hours each day to help me out with it. It will be fun to have him come and help me out, but even more fun to have his company. I'm looking forward to it.

I've also started going back to the gym...well, ok I went once last week, but I am trying to go twice a week with my dad. Tomorrow I plan on going to the gym with him and then again on either Wednesday OR Friday, or possibly both days, if I am feeling up to it and if he is as well. It's nice going to the gym with someone. Thursday I have a follow-up appointment with my surgeon and my dad is also going to come with me to that appointment because afterward we are going to go to the temple for our church down in Littleton. James has to work all week, or he would come with us, but James does get Saturday off so we plan on going down to the temple for our church again on Saturday. It will be nice to go twice this week. I'm really looking forward to that.

I wanted to make a trip to the library this week too to pick up some more books to read. I've been trying to do this for the past week or so, but haven't been feeling up to it. I hurt my leg somehow and it's been really giving me some trouble. I don't know what I did to it, but I may have to go into the doctor this week if it doesn't calm down. We'll see. I have plenty of other things I need to do as well, so I don't think I'll run out of things anytime soon. I am excited for this week, though. It's a new week with lots of things to do, but spaced out enough to where I don't feel overwhelmed. Good stuff!

Not What I Thought

When you're growing up you have these dreams or thoughts or expectations, call them what you may, about what your life is going to be like when you are older and on your own. You think about the successful career, or the handsome loving husband/beautiful perfect wife, the beautiful family, or the travels around the world. You factor in ages and places, people and things, money and wealth, possessions and spirituality. You take almost everything into consideration and think you have everything planned out so well. And then, the next thing you know, you are living a life that is completely opposite anything you ever imagined those many years ago. For some, it's better than they every thought it could be, and for others it's worse.

It's at moments like this that you think "I've done everything right. I've followed the plan I created for myself, I did all the right things at exactly the right time." But somehow it all goes an entirely different way. We don't factor in the heartache or the missed opportunities. We don't lie in our beds at night as kids dreaming about what we will do when our plan doesn't work out. We don't consider sickness or sorrow, sadness or pain. And that's a good thing because as kids it's in our nature to focus on the good and the positive. We are supposed to dream big and throw our souls open to the world with an invitation of "Come in world! Show me what you've got! I can take it! I can take anything you throw at me!" Our eyes are bright, our smiles wide and we run towards anything that looks like it might be hard or even dangerous simply because it's an adventure.

Then, in the quiet moments of a cold January morning, you reflect back on everything you have done and everything going on right now and you think "What happened?" Your mind is turned toward those who are the same age as you and their beautiful families, successful careers, handsome loving husbands/beautiful perfect wives, and travels they have taken. You remember their wide grins in the pictures and videos they have sent. You hear the happiness and excitement in their voices as they recount their adventures and you can't help but be a little jealous.

Your life has not turned out like what you thought it would....

...it's hard...

...and painful...

...and a little bit scary.

But that doesn't mean it's been bad. It's just not what you had originally thought it would be like. It's different and new and sometimes overwhelming. But that's where the adventure comes in. Life begins at the edge of our comfort zones.

Another year down and a new one just ahead

I went back over my old posts from last year and came across this one that listed my New Years goals I had set in anticipation of 2009. Now, near the end of this year I thought it would be a good idea to review the goals I had set and see how well I did at them. Let's review, shall we?

My first goal I had set was "Get organized". James and I organized the closet in our study and the closet out on our balcony. We were able to get rid of all our old brown boxes and upgrade to the more durable plastic tubs that we got from Target. Whereas we still have quite a few more things we need to organize, it is nice to know that we got the more daunting parts out of the way and were able to organize ourselves better. Even though this goal wasn't accomplished as fully as I had anticipated, it was still accomplished largely enough that I am calling it a success. Yea!

The second goal I set was "Update the blog more frequently". Ask and ye shall receive, right? After being diagnosed with thyroid cancer in early January, I really had no problem updating the blog. It even provided a good place for me to express all my thoughts, concerns, and medical updates for everyone to read about, thereby eliminating the need for me to repeat myself over and over again when people asked how I was, and what the latest news was. I am grateful that I had a blog to be able to do that for, and telling people my blog address was a lot better on my voice, too. So I will definitely call this one a success as well.

The third goal I set was "Keep a journal again". Now that one I didn't do so much. I have a personal, private blog that I updated a few times, but I realized that I was typing the same thing over again in my private blog that was already in my public blog and that caused me to become frustrated. I am happy to say that the most meaningful things were written in my private blog, which helped me because I really am much faster at typing than I am at writing, and I can usually keep up with my thoughts quickly before I forget them. You can't always do that with pen and paper. I had good intentions with this one, though. I thought it would help me relieve stress. However, blogging helped me with that. That was a surprise bonus I hadn't considered before. I think I'm going to drop this one for the coming year. It was a nice idea, but not one that really worked for me. I think I'll keep writing down the important, personal, and meaningful events that occur in my private blog, but I am fairly confident that most of my other thoughts will end up in this blog, so make sure you keep reading. :)

I have plenty of ideas and goals in mind for the new year. 2010 is going to be an interesting year, I already know. I'll be anxious to review my goals at the end of next year and see how well I did. I'll make another post about some ideas I have for my new years goals in the next week. I still have time to fine tune them before I really decide on anything.

A Christmas Memory

The faded smell of Navy perfume reminds me of Christmas. This reminder of such a treasured holiday comes simply because of a gift that my sister Corrina purchased for me one year. It was a relatively normal sort of gift, and not one that most people are generally excited about, but to me it meant so much. I remember that for weeks before Christmas she would tell me how much she hoped I liked her gift, and would try to give me little hints so as to keep me in suspense. When the day finally came, I was truly surprised, for there, snuggled between the giant mounds of wrapping paper and still unopened gifts, was a small square package. I remember holding it in my hands and feeling so special because she had picked it out just for me.

Up until that point I was doing really well at containing my excitement. But I was so curious that I tore off the carefully wrapped paper and looked with awe at my newest treasure. It was what I had secretly wanted but yet never told anyone about. I remember running my fingers across the top plastic cover and opening up my very own, and very first, makeup kit.

The colors of the blush and eye shadow were just right for my complexion; dark browns, faded pinks, and soft maroons. Alongside the eye shadow was a tube of lipstick that was a slightly darker color than I liked, but it didn’t matter. Along with the kit came eyeliner, mascara, brushes, and a small bottle of Navy perfume. I had never heard of Navy before and as I gently took the small glass tube from its resting place I felt a surge of excitement. I silently hoped it would smell nice so I wouldn’t have to explain to my sister every day why I wasn’t wearing her gift. The top of the glass tube had a dark blue lid that made a small popping sound as I took the top off. The scent was captivating! I was impressed that my sister knew so much about me, and put so much thought into a gift that others mocked her for getting. She knew me inside and out and knew, the second she smelled the perfume, that I would love it. And she was right.

That small bottle of Navy perfume was only worn on rare occasions. This was not something that I wanted to waste, and I made sure that I double, triple, and quadruple checked whether the situation warranted the use of my precious Navy perfume or not. School dances, dates with boys, job interviews, Sunday church…you name it I second guessed it. It wasn’t that I was afraid the perfume would run out, nor that I wanted to keep that heartfelt memory of my sister bottled up with the unique scent of the perfume. It was the thought she had put into such a gift and how extremely well she truly knew me. She knew me much more than I even knew myself.

On more than one occasion when my sister and I were going out for the evening she would say “Why don’t you put some Navy perfume on? It smells nice on you.” These were the exceptions. Even though I had wrestled with myself a few moments prior to leaving the house and had decided not to wear the perfume, Corrina could always make me change my mind. I would smile at her and then race back to the house to dab a little bit on my wrists and occasionally behind my ears. When I would come back outside she would always say “That smells so good on you!!” She could always make me smile and feel good about myself.

By the time I was 19 I was ready to go and see the world, and my small perfume bottle would be one of my favorite travel items. Long after the original perfume had been used I had purchased my own small bottle of Navy and toted it around with me where ever I went. It was like a toothbrush to me! I had to have it. The first trip I ever took away from home was a summer job in New York. I lived in California and had never even been in a plane before, let alone across the country. Without hesitation I packed that small perfume bottle filled with the elegant cologne. It would be the one thing I could use to reminisce about family and friends while I was so far away.

I remember one day, while I was in New York, I had an extremely difficult day. As soon as the day was over I went home and locked myself in my room where I dug through my suitcase and personal belongings to find the delicate bottle. I searched through pockets and bags, flipped through drawers and dressers, and scanned through piles of papers and souvenirs, but the small bottle was nowhere to be found. For a moment I panicked. It wasn’t that I was going to hyperventilate if I didn’t have the Navy perfume. It reminded me so much of my sister and the many times we had laughed and shared our deepest sorrows and strongest fears. It was the one thing I had that could immediately take me back to times spent ditching school and sitting out in front of the CigMart waiting to see if they really did open at eight o’clock in the morning. Or the days we would walk to school in the rain and avoid all the people trying to splash us with the puddles. It would bring back the times I would talk to her for hours in the dark, even though she would be asleep. It brought back the sad times when the only thing that could cheer us up was a bag full of Oreos and some Cranapple juice. It was more than just a small perfume bottle. It was a scent full of memories that helped me through my days.

I raced through the house trying to gather all my belongings and account for the missing Navy perfume. It took me well over an hour to find the bottle, and when I did I cried. I cried for the many times my sister’s heart was broken and how sad I was that I couldn’t fix it. I cried for the painful memories of walking through the desert, leaning on each other, and sometimes carrying each other while cactus needles stuck out of our feet in massive amounts. I cried for the happy times when we helped each other survive the constant stresses and pressure of high school. I cried for the times when we would sit on top of the dog house in our backyard and watch the cars drive by when we were sick and longing for the breeze to cool our faces. And I cried for the moments of tranquil peace when my sister and I would escape to the small pool in our backyard and swim for hours while we talked about our future.

I was saddened by the thought of losing such wonderful memories in a place where I was only a visitor. It’s funny to put such emotions into an inanimate object, I know, but it was an object that was very dear to my heart. That bad day was nothing compared to how lost I would have felt had I not been able to find the perfume. My relationship with my sister was so strong then and still strong today.

It’s been years since I have thought about the Navy perfume. The years have come and gone by so quickly at times and so slowly for others, that what may seem so important in one moment is all but forgotten in the next. I started thinking about all of these memories when I walked by a perfume counter in one of the local shops in my town. A distinct scent permeated my senses and took me back to times I had long suppressed. The Navy perfume was the most prominent bottle on the shelf and I was drawn to it immediately. I fully expected a small tube to fall out of the box I had opened up, but to my surprise a large bottle emptied into my hands. I was troubled by the large quantity of the perfume. To me, it seemed like way too much for one person to handle. I tried to imagine the amount of memories that would come back to me if I had a bottle that size included in my first makeup kit. I am sure I would have felt overwhelmed since the small tube my sister first gave me was almost too much for me to handle then. Still, the memories of New York and all the times with my sister fluttered back to my mind, causing a playful smile to cross my lips.

My sister and I are still very close and have shared so many things with each other. I couldn’t be happier with the joys and pains, the happy times and the sorrows that I have had with her. How interesting it is to me to remember the first moment our relationship became closer! That Christmas morning is so clear in my mind now, and will be for years to come. There is nothing like walking down memory lane with a good friend, some nice memories, and a tiny bottle of Navy perfume.

Doing Better

Today I am doing better. James and I decided last night to take his car to a repair shop to see if they could figure out what the problem was since it was escaping everyone else around us. That calmed me down a bit, aside from the money part, so we just prayed it wouldn't be anything big and wouldn't be over $300. I got up this morning and took the car into Brakes Plus. I was there for an hour when they came out asking me questions and saying they were having the same problem with the brake pedal that I was. They suggested bleeding the brakes again and then they would test drive it again. I told them to go ahead and do that. I sat there for about three hours total waiting for them to finish working on the car. They said they had a free shuttle and would be happy to drive me home and call me once it was done, but at this point I was so vested in the car that I wanted to be there when they found out what was wrong. So I politely declined and said I would just wait. I did bring my Nintendo DS for entertainment, just in case it took longer.

There was a Good Housekeeping magazine there that I decided to look through while I waited. I got all the way through the January 2010 issue with Brooke Shields on the cover, when the very last article on the very last page caught my eye. The article stated with the sentence, "I used to be able to sing...". It was written by a woman who used to sing and talk and cheer until one day her friends began asking her if she was just getting over a cold or something. Her voice always sounded hoarse and she found that she would easily lose her voice. She went to her doctor who told her that she had developed cysts on her vocal folds due to overuse of her voice and then went to speech therapy to see how she could improve it. Her speech therapist told her she needed to stop talking. The therapist worked with her on getting her voice stronger...or at least what she had left of it. The woman can no longer sing, no longer shout, and cannot engage in conversations in loud, crowded places. She pined for the days when she could sing for her own enjoyment and for the chance to sing to her children. She wrote about how she felt like she had lost her identity and how she didn't know how to deal with having her voice gone. It was tough, but ultimately she realized that her voice was not her defining characteristic and she was not lost without it. She realized that she was the person she was in spite of not having a voice. It put my situation into perspective. I realize now that I may never get my voice back fully, but I know my voice does not define me. I can still appreciate good music when I hear it, and I can help out in other ways instead of singing. I will more than likely have days when I wish I could sing again, but for the most part, I am happy that I actually have a voice to speak with. In time, I think I will learn to appreciate the little things surrounding the loss of my singing and cheering and speaking in loud crowded places, just like the woman I read about. It was a good article that gave me comfort.

About thirty minutes after I finished the article the repair shop said they were done with my car and it was fixed. I was shocked. I asked what was the matter and they said they just bled the brakes and got a lot of air out of the brake system and then they test drove it and everything was fine. I was so happy! It only cost me about $60.00 (I got some replacement windshield wipers as well) and happily drove about town applying my brakes as the situation warranted, with much more confidence than I had going in.

So, today was a much better day than yesterday. And now, I'm off to take a nap. Even happy days make me exhausted! :)