Monday, November 30, 2009
20. Chapter 68---Just a DANG Good Day!
I reviewed a ton for my first final, which is TOMORROW!! Pray for me :) Hopefully it will go wonderfully... if not... At least today rocked :) It was just one of those days that goes extremely well and at the end you feel like dancing :)
I also just realized I only have 5 school days left! :) I only have class on Monday's, Tuesday's and Thursdays! And I only have 1 Monday left!!!!! :) :) YAY!!!!! Too bad finals week has to happen... hopefully it won't be that bad lol
Life is grand!
Saturday, November 28, 2009
19. Chapter 27---The Holy War
Isn't life great? :)
Friday, November 27, 2009
Chapter 100---No Pain, No Gain
“Katelynn! Are you okay?” The shaky voice was coming from somewhere above me. A warm liquid trickled down the side of my head as I slowly became aware of everything around me. I opened my eyes and looked towards the sound; memories slowly began to connect the present with the past.
I assessed the situation as I tried to stand; unbearable sharp pain prevented that action. “My foot’s broken,” I calmly answered, then shouted back, “Are you all right, Anthony?” I unsuccessfully tried to stand once more. If your body uses pain to communicate with your brain, my right foot was yelling at a new decibel; it made my head spin. I touched the liquid---blood. “My head is bleeding too.” Shock was allowing me to analyze the situation in a strangely serene state of mind.
Anthony was standing hundreds of yards above me on the face of the mountain. There were so many thoughts running through my head; before I could interpret one, it was replaced by a new equally confusing thought. If he was standing, he wasn’t paralyzed. I moved my toe. I wasn’t paralyzed. Where is my shoe? I was shaking. What happened to the four-wheeler? It must be somewhere at the bottom of the mountain. I reached up to touch my pounding head. Where is my helmet? I didn’t check to see if there were bugs on this dirty rock. Spiders…my thoughts were interrupted by Chase coming over the top of the mountain.
“Oh my heck! What happened? I’ll call 911!” He was standing near Anthony if my ears were working correctly. He continued, “I don’t have service here! I’ll have to go down the mountain and find some.” I was his date and he didn’t even come down to see if I was alright; I found it irritating and comical at the same time. His footsteps sounded further away and I assumed he had started his hike back to his four-wheeler. Sensitivity to light from my head injury had forced me to close my eyes and rely on other senses. The intensity of the pounding in my head increased with each second. I was cold, despite the bright Spring sun beating down on me.
As Chase’s footsteps became inaudible, Mandy, Anthony’s date, came running to our side of the mountain. Frantically repeating the same string of questions, she hurried to my side. My answers were the same, “My foot’s broken. My head is bleeding.” I reassessed the situation, shocked at myself I whispered, “I peed my pants.”
“Let me see how bad your head is, Kate,” Mandy said gently lifting my head to get a better look. “Holy…” she exclaimed under her breath as I pulled my hair back; she was trying to be calm.
“How bad is it?” I asked, already knowing the answer from her explicit phrase.
Mandy didn’t know I had heard, “It’s not bad at all,” she lied in a shaky voice. She took someone’s shirt and began to apply pressure to my head. She tried to help me lie down. I resisted. The ground is dirty. There could be bugs. I don’t want to lay on this. I stripped off my shirt to use it as a blanket. As my shocked mind realized that someone else had assumed the role as the calm level headed one, panic set in.
“I could have killed us!” I screamed in a voice comparable to that of a woman giving birth. I began to voice the incoherent thoughts that ran through my head. “Basketball season is ruined!” I was becoming hysterical. “We could be dead!” With each scream, hot tears flowed, the pounding in my head multiplied, and the hysteria peaked. “I ripped my pants! These are my favorite pants!”
Between pain and the effects of the body’s natural response to stress, the next few hours of waiting for the ambulance were a hazy blur. Despite my protest, the ambulance personnel had called my parents; my dad was there among the ER staff to transport me from the ambulance into the hospital. “I broke my foot, daddy,” I said pathetically.
His real feelings masked by his trained calm in stressful situations, my dad’s sympathy was as cold and hard as the tables in the ER. Looking at my swollen foot he responded, “It looks like you did.” Numbed by his assumption of the role of physician, he added, “We told you not to go, Kate.” Those words hurt worse than the actual break. He continued, “Let’s get you into x-ray.”
After x-rays were taken and an operating room was prepared, the shock began to wear off. The epinephrine that had suppressed my awareness of pain no longer had full effect. “Please, please,” I found myself almost begging, “just make it stop. Give me drugs.” My wish was granted and with an IV steadily flowing into my arm, the pain began to dull.
My mom held my hand as I drifted in and out of consciousness. Lovingly she reassured me, “Go to sleep now, when you wake up it will all be over.”
I believed her. However, it was just the beginning. The physical pain was blinding the day of the accident and it was far from over when I woke up.
“You’re lucky. The fracture was a bad one, Kate,” my Dad was explaining the prognosis to me after surgery. “You’re lucky to be alive. You’re actually lucky to have a foot, if this happened fifty years earlier we would have had to amputate it. Thanks to technology, we were able to put a few small titanium screws in your foot to hold your joints together.”
“Screws? Will I set off metal detectors?” I questioned. The irrational hysteria of shock was long gone by now, but sometimes the things I say make me question my priorities.
My mother is always there to ask the important questions, “How long ‘til she can walk on it?” Knowing that I had been counting down to my senior year of basketball since I was ten, she rephrased her question quickly, “How long until she can play basketball again?”
“Well…” He spoke slowly implying that bad news was on its way, “absolutely no weight on it for four weeks, then we’ll start physical therapy,” he paused. My dad obviously hated seeing me in pain, he tried talking to my mother as if I wasn’t there, “Most people with fractures this bad have to relearn how to walk. The books suggest no rigorous activity for at least a year…”
I tuned out the rest of the conversation to calculate the meaning of this in my head: Four weeks, I pulled out my mental calendar, put me to the first week in June. Only one week of sun loss. Not too bad. Three weeks of school with crutches---that’d be bad but doable. One year. I mulled that thought over in my mind. It was May. Pre-season started in October. May to June, June to July, July to August, August to September, September to October---“That’s only five months Dad?” I spoke my concern out loud.
“Five months to what?” Obviously the conversation had continued without me.
I clarified, “Basketball starts in five months. It’s my senior year; I’ll have to be ready in five months.”
“We’ll see if you’re ready by then,” my mom tried to bring me to grips with reality.
My parents had raised me with an invincible confidence. “It was a statement not a question,” I said determinedly.
The day my cast came off I looked at my skinny hairy right leg and round, sausage toes. Blood oozed slowly from two jagged wounds that were still healing on the top of my foot. I watched it drip slowly to the floor. “Frankenstein had a better looking outcome than this,” I exaggerated. I almost asked to have the cast put back on. This was not going to be easy.
“You’re free Kate,” my dad said with a smile as he wiped up the blood off the floor, “go ahead and put some weight on it.”
It was the first time in four weeks I had even thought about stepping on that foot. “Are you sure Dad?” Sometimes having your Dad as your doctor pays, sometimes it doesn’t. Sometimes you don’t get as much sympathy or explanation as a normal patient does; that day I wanted more than a restriction release. As I put my foot down, the weak muscles and stiff joints cried out in pain. “Pretty sure I can’t walk. I don’t think I’m ready. Shouldn’t I graduate to a walking boot or something?” The confidence I’d had a few weeks earlier was gone.
“You’ll heal as fast as you’ll let yourself,” my Dad said unsympathetically. “The x-rays look great and you are free to do whatever you think you are ready to do.”
I wasn’t ready to do anything but feel sorry for myself and limp around on one foot and unnecessary crutches. Every time I would attempt to put weight on my foot, my muscles and joints would cry out in pain. For the first time in my life, I found myself repeatedly using the foreign phrase, “I can’t! It’s impossible!” Relearning to walk was the first challenge I couldn’t conquer easily.
The Monday after I got the cast off, summer basketball open gym started. As captain I felt an obligation to go even though it was obvious I wouldn’t be playing; I hadn’t even been able to master walking yet. I hobbled into the gym on my crutches and was met by the appropriate reactions.
“Look at those sausage toes!” Mandy gawked. “Your right leg compared to your left looks like a stick!”
“Does it hurt?” Someone questioned.
I stared at them in disbelief and fought the desire to say, with complete sarcasm, “Of course not stupid. I only broke my foot in half four weeks ago, it doesn’t hurt at all!” Fortunately, the injury to my head did not damage my frontal lobe. I was able to win the battle with my fierce, bitter tongue and ignore her.
Then my best friend asked the question that changed everything, “How long until your Dad says you can play again?”
I hadn’t thought about that yet. I had been focusing on learning how to walk and I had been stubborn and unmotivated. Now my perspective changed a little. In order to play basketball I had to be able to run and jump. In order to run and jump, I had to be able to walk first didn’t I? In order to walk, wouldn’t I have to first be willing to take a step? I came to the conclusion, despite the pain; I needed to start by taking baby steps, literally.
I sat on the side of the court reasoning with myself as my team warmed up without me. I felt isolated; it was like I was viewing reality from behind a wall of hazy glass. Deep thuds resounded throughout the gym as basketballs came in contact with the floor; the net whispered softly as shots were made; and the traction of the shoes on the newly waxed court squeaked in coordination with each movement of the players. The music of that moment combined with my deep thoughts consumed me; my heart beat increased with each dribble.
Someone missed a shot and the ball bounced off the rim and rolled in my direction; the ball seemed to shatter the glass wall that isolated me from reality. Without thinking, I called, “got it,” stood up, walked to the ball, bent over and picked it up. Since the day on the mountain when my life had changed, no pain had ever been more satisfying---no pain in my life was more welcomed. I threw the ball back to the shooter. Everyone was watching in disbelief as I hobbled back to my seat.
“Four months and counting,” I whispered to myself as the forgotten fire of confidence rekindled within me. There was no doubt in my mind; I’d be back and ready to play.
Thursday, November 26, 2009
17. Chapter 43---Total Eclipse of the Heart
It is an actual music video for Total Eclipse of the Heart, but some rhetorical genius rewrote the words to match what is happening in the video! SO FUNNY!
WATCH IT! WORTH EVERY MINUTE!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=lj-x9ygQEGA
They say we have a drug problem in our society today?! What the heck was going on the 80's?! What would possess you to make a video THIS bad??
Sunday, November 22, 2009
16. Chapter 20---Some people...
We ate dinner tonight with an apartment in our ward... There was only one of the four that came over that we would ever have back again. I am a little shocked about the whole situation.
Last week they invited us to dinner but we already had plans, so they asked us to dinner this week-- we decided they'd do the meat and veggies, we'd do potatoes, bread, and a dessert. This week came. They changed the time one us like 3 times... and two hours before we decided they bring the food over to our place--- Didn't they invite us to dinner? I was confused... so we hurried and cleaned our apartment, and when they finally come--- everyone but one guy was worthless. The rest just watched and expected us to heat and finish preparing the food they brought as well as our own...? And then last minute they invite two extra people to come, since we weren't prepared to have it in the first place, we had to scramble to find chairs and dishes and pray we had enough food, because they hardly brought anything?
If that isn't bad enough.. the conversation was strained and AWKWARD! The one and only nice guy helped us clean up while the rest sat on their butts... I can't tell you how many times I had to consciously wipe the look of disgust off of my face... I believe those are the first group of boys that I've met at BYU that are THAT socially unacceptable. There was one guy in particular... No wonder he's still single... He pretty much was your ideal jerk...
I am just in kinda shock about how socially unaware people can be...
I'm really grateful my parents taught me social skills to some degree...
Friday, November 20, 2009
15. Chapter 88---Your Heart Belongs to Me
I've had to limit myself to 1 chapter tonight. If I'm productive enough tomorrow, I'll treat myself with another. I love to read so much. Here is why I think...
I am Daddy's little girl. Not just because I am the youngest, but because I was born just as my dad was finishing his residency. I was the only child who knew a Dad that was home when I went to bed each night. As a result, there wasn't a night until I was probably 6 or 7 that I didn't spend curled up at his side reading bedtime stories. It was our thing. Books were our thing. When I was "too grown up" to get read to each night, he would bring me home books on tape and novels to read from the library. Some nights he would get off work, call me, come pick me up, and we'd head back into town to go to the library together. We'd spend hours there picking out books together. That stage lasted until I moved to college. Even now though I find myself on the phone hearing about his latest novel or the newest book. Koontz is our favorite. We've both read everything and anything by him.
Some nights when its cold, especially at Chirstmas time, my dad and I will both get blankets, I'll get hot coco and he'll het his postum, he'll light a real fire in the fireplace, and we'll sit in the living room and read our books.
I will always be daddy's little girl I think.
Tuesday, November 17, 2009
14. Chapter 67---Christmas Music Year Round
Shouldn't we celebrate Christmas and Christ's birth all year round? I think so.
(Also, while I'm throwing my opinions around, I think we should get an Easter break! Winter semester needs more Holidays.)
Saturday, November 14, 2009
13. Chapter 14---Ariane's Bachelorette Party
There we were, 9 girls in black, white, and red, and 1 bride wearing a bright red dress with sequins all over it. We purposely color coordianted to match the ridiculous dress we were making her wear. We had a scavenger hunt planned at the mall. Ariane had a list of tasks to complete: 1. Get a picture with 5 random groups of guys; 2. Ask 5 people what they think Vicotria's "secret" really is; 3. Get sized for lingerie; 4. Ask 3 couples for married advice. And that was it really. Not bad right? We thought we had done a wonderful job as conservative in our planning as she is in her life. We were all waiting to take a picture and she ran back inside. We waited and waited and waited, so I finally went to see what she was up to. While we were all in our pose waiting for her to join the picture, she had been sitting in her bedroom. I found her crying and holding her cell phone. She had texted her fiance to ask permission to do the list of things we had planned. For some reason, to which I can't understnad, she had a REAL hard time even THINKING about taking pictures with groups of boys... (Because being in a picture with a guy is cheating? I'm not really sure?...) Another thing I couldn't even comprehend was the fact that she knew we were all waiting on her, and she was selfish enough to sit in her room for 10 minutes without even letting us know... Even if you're having a hard time, you should have some degree of respect for people who spent their busy week planning a party that you wanted to have and were now taking time away from their busy lives to spend the night celebrating your last few weeks as a single woman. Third, I know she loves her husband, but can she not even think enough for herself to decide on her own whether or not she can do it? If I didn't really want to do something, I wouldn't need anyone to decide that for me. But apparently, being engaged makes you completely helpless in deciding anything.
I walked back outside with a plastered smile on my face; I have learned from previous experience that it is not worth getting angry over people like that. I just took a mental note: 1. If someone goes out of their way to do something nice for me, I'm going to have respect for them and try my hardest to cooperate with thier plans. 2. Never be so selfish that you can't at least have the decency to let people know they shouldn't wait for you. 3. Don't be embarrassed by harmless things. It's not worth it. 4. Decide where YOU stand and what YOUR opinion is, independent of anyone else. Once you have your opinion, act on it independent of anyone else. 5. Have fun always.
If you aren't constantly laughing, loving, or livin' it up, then you're only breathing. Don't breathe. LIVE! :)
Wednesday, November 11, 2009
12. Chapter 57---Don't want to sleep!
So this post is basically my excuse to stay up a few minutes longer... I have always loathed getting ready for bed. I can't ever figure out why, but all I know is I can't sleep until I brush my teeth, take off my make up, and get in my p.j.'s. It will only take me tops 5 minutes if I hurry... but some nights I'd rather sit, dead tired, doing nothing then get ready for bed. I dread it more than anything! I just wish I could snap my fingers and be ready for bed! I'd get so much more sleep! I can't believe how ridiculous this mental block towards getting ready for bed is!
Now that I've wasted a few minutes and vented... I'll go get ready for bed...
Tuesday, November 10, 2009
11. Chapter 47---It is a SMALL world after all!
Thursday, November 5, 2009
10. Chapter 3: Elder Nelson
- He has perfect pitch, plays the organ, and writes hymns
- He was a MD by 22, graduated from the U! (22! Can you believe that?!)
- He isn't just a world renowned heart surgeon, he is THE world renowned heart surgeon. He worked on the team of scientists that invented the cardiovascular machine that allows physicians to perform open heart surgery and keep the lungs supplying oxygen to the blood! (Do you even know how smart you would have to be to do that?! We are talking about the person who invented heart surgery here!)
- He had to be one of the most busy men in the world: At one point in his life he was a practicing surgeon, head of CES, father of 10 children (9 girls, 1 boy), and a member of the Mormon Tabernacle Choir! (I can't even imagine doing any of those one things by myself, let alone do them all at the same time!)
- He was set apart as a Stake President by Elder (at the time) Spencer W. Kimball. He was blessed to perfect the aortic valve replacement in that setting apart; he later had to perform that surgery on Elder Kimball, and while finishing a perfect operation, Elder Nelson received the impression that he had been prepared all his life so that he could save the prophet's life.
- Elder Nelson did not save President Harold B. Lee's life when he came into the hospital. He was devastated, and he later had a vision in which President Lee came to him reassuring him that it was his time to go and the work would go on with President Kimball just the same as it would if he were still the prophet!
Those are just a few of the amazing things! I need to meet someone like that! That honestly just raised my standard for my husband by a million! No wonder he is a general authority! He is so amazing! They all are actually!
The Church is True! Basically.
Tuesday, November 3, 2009
9. Chapter 31--- All Hallow's Eve!
This last weekend was one of the most fun and most unproductive of the school year! Starting Friday morning, I got in the Halloween Spirit of things and didn't do much else until Sunday night! (I did manage to spit out a paragraph for my English paper... but that was about it) My roommates and I went to party after party, made ginger snap cookies and pumpkin dip (which is all I ate on Saturday), and basically had two great days in a row! We are the best! We went as Charlie's Angels this year and took pictures with EVERYONE! What can I say, we looked hott!
Number 3: The Jolly Green Giant! Covering yourself in a full layer of green body paint--- that deserves an award!
Number 2: White Chocolate (Gangster) He stayed in Character ALL night! No one lived their costume as well as he did!