Friday, December 18, 2009

Oh By Gosh, By Golly...

Merry Vacation!
Merry Traveling!
Merry Time With Family and Old Friends!
Merry Present-Giving!
Merry Caroling!
Merry Hot Chocolate Tasting!
Merry Dark Rooms Lit Only By Christmas Trees At 2 In The Morning!
Merry S'more-Making!
Merry Quiddlering!
Merry Kids Excited About Santa On Christmas Eve!
Merry Meaningful Cards for Meaningful People!
Merry Choir Programs!
Merry Feeling Great About Mankind!
Merry Starting Fresh!
Merry Snow (Or Lack of It)!
Merry Sleeping In!
Merry Fudge-eating!
Merry 5 Crowns-ing!
Merry Watching Movies!
Merry Good Feelings All the Time!
Merry Salvation Army Bell-Ringers!
Merry Giving to Salvation Army Bell-Ringers!
Merry Doing Stuff For Other People Just Because You Want To!
Merry Pine Smell In The House!
Merry Continuing the Myth Of Santa Claus!
Merry Cheesy Songs Playing Over and Over on the Radio!
Merry Liverpool Rummy-ing!
Merry Cookie-Baking!
Merry "Christmas in the Northwest"-ing!
Merry Inward Reflecting!
Merry Luke 2-ing!
Merry Packed Houses!
Merry Love!
Merry Peace!
Merry Goodwill To Men!

Sunday, December 13, 2009

Yes, we are now Guatemalan

Ah boy, how excited I am be come home for Christmas!!!

If I remember correctly, we Calls haven't had Christmas with the entire family since Christmas '04. Five years of scattered celebrations until NOW! I'm excited to sing songs by the piano on Christmas morning. I'm excited to smell those scrumptious cinnamon pine cones that Mom keeps hung by the pantry. I'm excited to make s'mores at the fireplace. I'm excited to carol and come home to hot cocoa and chili I won't eat. I'm excited to wake up Christmas morning and wait at the top of the stairs to open presents. I'm excited to go to the movies Christmas day. I'm excited to spend time with those who love me and have fun with my awesome family.

I got to teach on the Spirit of Christ(mas) today for Relief Society. It was an amazing opportunity to remember what Christmas is all about. I'm humbled to remember all of the wonderful things our Savior has done for us. He was born for us. He lived for us. He died for us. He knows our needs and will always be with us when we align our lives with His teachings.

C.S. Lewis said, "There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations--these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit--immortal horrors or everlasting splendours. This does not mean that we are to be perpetually solemn. We must play. But our merriment must be of the kind (and it is, in fact, the merriest kind) which exists between people who have, from the outset, taken each other seriously--no flippancy, no superiority, no presumption. And our charity must be real and costly love, with deep feeling for the sins in spite of which we love the sinners--no mere tolerance, or indulgence which parodies love as flippancy parodies merriment. Next to the Blessed Sacrament itself, your neighbor is the holiest object presented to your senses."

Everyday we associate with people of divine nature. I am constantly reminded of the potential we have when I see my roommate shovel the walkway at church so others don't slip in the snow. When my sister gets more excited about shopping for her kids than for herself. When friends and family help me to remember that I am loved and cared for. This is a season of giving and goodwill to men. I'm excited to know where I came from and where my destination should be. We know these treasured truths. We've known them since we were little. So now it's our job to aid others in their journey back to Heavenly Father and let them know that this life is not meant to be endured. It's meant to be relished. Do you know that for yourself? Do you take joy in the journey and in the comforting fact that Heavenly Father has you in the forefront of His perfect mind at all times? If so, let others know of this wonderful gift. If not, I hope I have been of some help to you, but it's something I continue to work on.

I'd encourage you to watch this. It's pretty wonderful. Anywho, that's my thought for the next while.

Love you all,

Monday, November 23, 2009

Living in Thanksgiving Daily

Whitney succeeded in extracting her crown from her rectum this week. Would you like to know how?


Much of my thoughts and musings these past few weeks have somberly turned to happier times when I enjoyed myself more fully and was more prone to noticing all of the things in my life that were just right. In the absence of terribly obvious blessings, I found myself floundering. I knew my trials could teach me experience and build my character. But frankly I didn't give a darn. Cynicism and sarcasm easily found their way into my humor, conversation, and ultimately my entire mindset. It is easy for me to give way to a more sardonic outlook on life and this past month or so has been a snippy, quippy one at best.

Then I read this talk from Joseph B. Wirthlin. Live in Thanksgiving Daily. He says:

"The Roman orator Cicero claimed a certain quality was 'not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others.' It is a quality I have found in every happy person I know. It is a quality that instantly makes a person more likable and more at peace. Where there is an abundance of this virtue, there is happiness. Where there is an absence of this virtue, there is often sadness, resentment, and futility.

The virtue I am speaking of is gratitude."

And then it becomes clear. We are given trials and hardships to help us. I think in the midst of our wallowing, we sometimes make circumstances harder on ourselves than Heavenly Father intended. We live, we lose, we learn, we lift. Loss is only a small part of the process.

I also realized that I probably haven't been much fun to be around. I thought about the people in my life that are genuinely happy and striving for optimism all the time. My brother Justin is a good example of that for me. He is always acting, looking and speaking upward. I want to be more like that. I want to be someone that others can turn to as a source of strength who can uplift them. Besides, how long can a pity party really last before your only guest wants to leave?

Elder Wirthlin mentioned three things we can do to live in thanksgiving daily:

First- We must open our eyes.
There are blessings all around us. Thrill with the experiences of everyday life. Enjoy your morning shower, your especially delicious lunch, your caring friend, your roof's safe shelter overhead, your underused scriptures, and your personal one-on-one time with Heavenly Father. When you look for blessings, it feels like a floodgate of them has been opened from heaven.

Second- We must open our hearts.
"We must let go of the negative emotions that bind our hearts and instead fill our souls with love, faith, and thanksgiving."
Elder Wirthlin hit it right on when he addressed the draining effects of negativity. How can we fill our lives with gratitude if we are constantly feeling angry, sad, melancholy, or longing for a past that won't return?

Third- We must open our arms.
Oh the underrated effects of service. I don't know that there is a quicker way to lift your spirits than to lift someone else's. This Sunday I had the awesome opportunity to teach the lesson in Relief Society. In praying super hard for the girls in my ward, I experienced more love and concern for them than I did for my own self. Which felt good when I took a step back and realized I wasn't focusing so much on me.

Thanksgiving is this Thursday. And I have a firm testimony in the power of gratitude.

-I am grateful for my family who continually takes care of me and has an invested interest in my life.
-I am grateful for my friends who give me constant companionship while I'm away from my family and make me feel loved.
-I am grateful for my Heavenly Father who continually reminds me that He is planning a future for me too exquisite to comprehend.

Gratitude. Pass it on. (:

Sunday, October 25, 2009

You Give Me Fever

Alas, I couldn't run forever!

So this last week has been a mixture of midterms, Divine Comedy retreats, haircuts and on-campus events. Oh yes, and the swine flu.

Around this time last year, the H1N1 virus seemed so far away. Infecting the lower classes of third world countries and wiping out herds of rural farmers. I scoffed at the idea that it would enter the walls of my own home. Then a new cast member of Divine Comedy had to miss our Saturday show to go to the hospital because of severe vomiting and a high fever. It was when she emerged from the ER that night proclaiming that she had been afflicted with the swine that it really hit the fan.

It was like a line of dominoes.

Why was I surprised to find myself at 102° and hacking up my lungs along with the ribcage that protected it? With a sunshine yellow mask as my consolation prize, I returned home to face a long weekend of achy sleep, sore throats, and sexy phlegm that makes my voice quite husky.

Allow me to share some insight this viral infection has presented to me:

The harder and faster you're hit, the quicker and sweeter your recovery.
Most students would rather sell their pancreas than miss a midterm.
Sleep can pleasantly surprise you. So can people.

Swine flu. It's not that bad. (:

Sunday, October 18, 2009

Isn't that just life?

[A delightful piece of history from the International Thespian Festival my freshman year of high school (: Just thought I'd share a bit of visual stimulation.]

This past week has been a weird, odd, awful, wonderful, crazy, calming, everything in between sort of week. Once again, I think I've crossed another threshold in my spiritual quest for knowledge and understanding when it comes to our interactions with the Lord. Allow me to elaborate.

See, many times I have been struck by a spiritual prompting and automatically assume that this is the only right path. This is what the Lord wants me to do forever and ever and if I stray from it now, it's on my head. This idea can overflow into many facets of life: educational, social, dating, vocational, etc. My thoughts were, "What am I supposed to do, Heavenly Father?" And then I would feel good about something and pursue it.

But I think our Heavenly Father is much more merciful than that. The more I get to know of Him, the more I'm assured that He's a very flexible God when it comes to living our lives. I've heard multiple times that when asking the Lord a question, like marriage for example, you shouldn't approach Him with, "Should I marry this person?" Rather, you should go forward, and tell the Lord, "Listen, I love this person and you're going to have to drag me kicking and screaming to look for anybody else. Stop me if I'm wrong." The Lord knows what is right, but He also knows our personal thoughts, tastes and preferences. He knows our weaknesses and our strongest motivations and what will ultimately make us as individuals happy in the best way our individual selves could be happy. He knows these perfectly at every point in our lives and our constantly changing natures.

Let me put it this way: If you would love nothing more than to become a dentist, by all means, you should go into dentistry. And the Lord will probably support you in that. But if something doesn't work out; if your classes never match up or you discover the bitter world of dentist politics or a better profession comes along, don't feel bad that you felt right about dentistry in the first place. The Lord didn't lead you astray. He merely guided you in a path that would make you happiest at that point. It doesn't mean that He will always guide you along that path. This whole series of events is a process in which we need to experience all the parts, good and bad.

I'm not sure why my life takes me in different routes, and I'm not sure why some things match up and some things don't, but I truly believe in the concept of taking things line upon line, precept upon precept. The Lord will work with us, strengthen us at every stage, and He will be our advocate in every righteous pursuit.

I'm having my ups and downs at the moment, but this new epiphany has brought me comfort and solace:

Just because life backs out on you sometimes doesn't mean the Lord backs out, too. And it doesn't mean that you were wrong.

That's my take home message for you all. Vague? Maybe. Applicable? Hopefully. From the depths of my spirit and my heart? Most definitely.

Love to all,

Sunday, October 4, 2009

Conference Contemplations

Oy. What a wonderful weekend, eh?

Let me say that this week hasn't been the greatest. I feel like I've been running around like a chicken with my head cut off to get things ready for the show and other quite stressful things. Definitely not in the mindset to cherish and uplift those around me.

At one point in particular, I wanted to hash every negative thought in my head out onto the table and jump up and down and shout, "Can't you do this little bit for me?!" I started the weekend feeling terrible and selfish and so very hopeless in all the petty as well as significant aspects of my life.

Then I sat down to four sessions of exactly what I needed.

Love. Compassion. Service. Selflessness. I needed to hear these again and again. Elder Scott's talk of inspiration and revelation; Elder Bednar's of maintaining a righteous home and family; Dieter F. Uchtdorf's talk of making love the center of our lives; Henry B. Eyring's talk of praying for love; H. David Burton's talk of maintaining integrity, charity, civility, spirituality, dignity, fidelity, generosity and morality; Thomas S. Monson's talk of doing good for others all around you; Holland's powerful testimony of the divinity of the Book of Mormon; Michael T. Ringwood's talk of keeping our hearts soft and ready to commit to the Lord's instructions. All of these hit me upside the head with Love. Compassion. Service. Selflessness. Charity. Forgiveness. Trust. Honesty. And Integrity.

I find myself truly blessed to be a part of such a wonderful organization. I am even more blessed to have direct communication with a Heavenly Father who loves and cherishes us, who knows our needs and specifically succors us in our weaknesses and who sees us through trying times.

I would like to add my testimony to the many wonderful ones borne today from such righteous leaders. I know that this Church is true. I know that our Savior is pleading for us to return to live with Him again and I know that we are given the means to do so. Here. In this lifetime. With the scriptures we possess and the people we associate with.

That's basically it. I say this in the name of our beloved Savior, Jesus Christ, Amen.

Sunday, August 9, 2009

Lessons from Jeffrey R.

I work in the food court at Costco. I had thought me rid of this temporary part-time nightmare last summer when I said goodbye to my co-workers and fled for Utah. In light of our economy, such was not the case.

However, I am not so unlucky. I only work this job for just under three weeks, whereas, some poor saps have been on the job for years and years, and it looks as though they may continue packaging hot dogs, catching pizzas from the oven, and rolling churros for the rest of their lives.

In the little time that I have worked, though, I have already begun to hate humanity. Today being the Sabbath, I congratulate and thank all of you who avoid shopping on Sundays. I was scheduled to work today. And being promised that it would be the only Sunday I would have to commit to for my duration in the food court, I agreed. Let me say, Sundays are horrible, disgustingly busy days for grocery shopping. While many of us routinely shop on Saturday to get ready for Sunday, the rest of the world operates one day later. Thus, Costco is always buzzing, in the parking lot, in the deli, in the grocery aisles, in the checkout lines, and ultimately--the food court.

I arrived with significant trepidation, my hand shaking as I scanned my ID card to clock in. Upon entering the side door to the familiar smell of condiments, chemicals and corroded pans, I sensed greed in the air. The morning crew bade us cheery farewells as they skipped away to freedom and I arrived at the front of the kitchen to confront a long line of eager faces, searching eyes, watering mouths and twitching fingers. For hours on end, I rushed from one end of the kitchen to the other, cutting pizzas, dropping bags of hot dogs and polish dogs, filling smoothie cups, mocha cups, sundae cups, yogurt cups of chocolate, vanilla or swirl. I simultaneously worked a register, handling torn twenties, while boxing pizzas for orders of five pizzas--all with specific orders of course, like half cheese/half combo light on the sauce on the cheese side and extra cheese on the combo side--all the while biting the insides of my cheeks and thinking "Time and a half. Time and a half." As we get paid 1 1/2 times as much as normal when we work on Sundays.

Then I would get sent out to the patio where the masses devoured their purchases.

This is where I thought I knew for a fact that I hated humanity. Even if just for a moment. The napkin dispensers are scattered with torn bits of greasy tissues and I think, "If you take a napkin and tons spill on the floor, you can put them in the trash, can't you?!" And then, a nice little surprise is waiting for me behind the condiments--half of a polish hot dog glaring me in the face. Who splits their hot dog lengthwise down the middle and then leaves the other half on the table for a worker to clean up? It was your stupid hot dog! In addition, I have to mosey between pushy individuals more interested in turning out onions on their flesh popsicles than letting me clean up the spill at their feet. And then there's always the interaction with customers who like to be clever with me. One of my favorite comments of the day was an older gentleman (not old enough to be excused of his behavior, mind you) tapped me on the shoulder and said, "Hey sister, could you start cleaning the tables first? We'd like to sit down and eat." Sister? Do I look like a cocktail waitress to you, "brother?"

I won't even go in depth about the closing duties and how many people linger for ten, twenty, thirty or forty minutes after closing and wonder angrily why we're out of pizza. Or how my shoes encrust with pizza dough after washing the floors. Or the gag reflex that comes with every swipe of the sponge in the hot dog machine. Just know, closing is what they give to the expendable vermin that are desperate for money and acceptance.

So needless to say, I arrive home in a terrible mood. I reek of fast food, cleaning products, sweat and frustration. Even the hot shower can't remove the latter. Then, I listen to a talk by Jeffrey R. Holland called, "How Do I Love Thee?." In it, he explains the qualities needed to build strong relationships with your loved ones and with those around you. He quotes the famous scripture from 1 Cor. 13:

Charity suffereth long... is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil... Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things [and] endureth all things.

And I am deeply humbled. These customers obviously have no intention to make my life miserable. They just want to take a break from their hectic lives to sit down and eat. We are commanded to love one another as Christ has loved us. No matter the circumstances.

This concept has caused me to look at a lot of the ways I see the people around me--my family, friends, roommates, classmates, etc. Holland said that while we fall short of Christ's example, that divine standard is still set in place for us to reach for. My patience may be tried, but it is an opportunity for me to become more patient. My temper may be tried, but it is an opportunity for me to become more forgiving. My animosity may be tempted, but it is an opportunity for me to grow in love.

These are not lessons learned, but goals to become lessons learned. Although I still dread going into work tomorrow, I thank the Lord for being as patient with me as I am expected to be with my fellow brothers and sisters. For He indeed lets me slip up time and time again, always offering me the guidance I need to step up another level and grow closer to Him. I have a long, long way to go. Today was just another step.

Monday, July 20, 2009

Life Lessons in Blue's Clues

These past several days have been chalk full of skinned knees, dress-up's, s'mores and--of course--the infamous child's show with Steve and his female companion. No, not any over-animated woman in matching stripes to ease his senile solitude, but his gender-confused canine, Blue.

My parents purchased two Blue's Clues VHS tapes at a yard sale for the entertainment of their grandchildren. Just how much entertainment those two some-odd hours of games and guesswork would strain and stretch, I doubt any of us anticipated. These five children, even the oldest at six who scoffs at the foolish antics of Nick Jr., have plastered their searching eyes on the screen, anticipating that short space of time of interaction when Steve will allow for them to enter his world by encouraging excited outbursts such as, "Notebook!" or "Thinking chair!" or "Leotard!"

In recovery from my recent surgery, I've spent the most of my days of late sleeping in my room, a thin and hollow door the only barricade between me and my wasted childhood repeating with great similitude in the youth of today. I hear the musings of a lonely man who's spent the better part of his early adulthood in the same green striped shirt, developing a slight combover and interacting with nothing but a green screen several hours a day. Steve now plays in an indie rock band, Steve Burns and the Struggle, I follow up on him considering I used to have a mad crush on him when I was little, but all of that's besides the issue at hand. Perhaps for another post on another day.

Well, I have this useless storage space in my brain that hoards movie quotes and scenes that no one else remembers. Useless, yet highly entertaining. And in hearing the same two episodes of Blue's Clues over and over and over and over and over, I've stored away so many subtle nuances and traditions of the show that I could regurgitate almost the entire performance from memory.

In the backyard today, I was engulfed in sticky toddlers sitting together on the grass eating hot dogs or marshmallows or dirt or whatever toddlers eat. We were all laughing, having a gay old time when the youngest girl, Ryleigh, pointed to something and shouted, "A clue! A clue!" I immediately followed her lead and said, "What? I need to tie my shoe?" And Emma, without missing a beat, chimed in, "No. A clue!" It occurred to me that we had entered an improvised game of Blue's Clues. With all the children on board, I proceeded to go through the first and second clues, mail time, and even a little skadoo session, and then ended the third clue on our thinking chair with the handy dandy notebook. At one point, I made a comment that these kids watch too much Blue's Clues. Then Ben put me in my place and said, "No, Aunt Whitney, you watch too much Blue's Clues." Touché, Benjamin. So we put all three clues together and then we played it out on the lawn, everyone laughing and feeling alive because they lived, for one small moment, in a simulated television show.

Well I already knew I could recreate hours and hours of movies, music and television from my noggin, so the event itself didn't surprise me. But it was the engaged playtime I spent with all six of these children that made me realize, "I think I can be good with children!" I've always considered myself to be a potentially wonderful mother...when my children reach middle school. I think I connect well with young adults who are facing the world and making decisions the best they can with the tools they've developed. That's why I want to write young adult fiction. But children? I've always written that off as a skill I won't have until child number four comes along. Well, hey, I think there's a little child in all of us who can learn to love that stage of life, work with it, and thrive.

So I say a little thanks to Blue's Clues for letting me know that I'm not lost to womanhood, motherhood nor humanity when it comes to that little voice that women often quote, resonating deep within their fertile wombs, "I love children!" I too enjoy the little runts, every now and then.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Day 3 Post-Op

I've got a sports bra that opens in the front so I don't have to stretch my arms too far. It feels nice to get the bandages off.

Hey hey!

So today I went to get my bandages off and my drains taken out. Let me tell you, I hope you never have to experience that feeling. It didn't hurt so much as that it didn't feel... right. I could feel the doctor pulling the tubes out and it kinda shocked me at first. By the time he got to the other side, I sorta wanted to die, but then they were both out and it was all over. (:

So Doctor Jewett wrapped me all up in gauze and let me put the sports bra on that I brought with me. I took some pictures of me in just the sports bra but I figured this is a public display of my private life, so I'll keep it G. (: Plus, I get all embarrassed.

Anywho, I got to take a shower today! Well, sorta. I can't wash my chest until tomorrow, but I maneuvered around the shower head so the gauze didn't get wet and took a creative little shower today. I don't mind, though. I feel clean, and wonderful. I'm glad to have the bandages off, I feel much more limber.

I'm definitely glad to be off the Percocet. I was feeling like crap yesterday and finally stopped taking them last night after throwing up for the third time. Now it's just regular Extra Strength Tylenol and I feel great. No dizzy spells, no nausea and no puking. It's all downhill from here, and I'm pretty psyched.

Wednesday, July 15, 2009

G'bye, girls. (:

Waiting around to be sedated.

Sayin' goodbye to them.

The bandages and the drains. But I covered the drains up because I don't want you to see them. (:

Not feeling too bad. All wrapped up and nowhere to go.

So today was my breast reduction surgery! I don't know how many of you know, but I've been dealing with this big bust for most of my adolescent life and it's been taking a toll on my neck and shoulders and back. I ran the half-marathon in Salt Lake at the end of April and I know most of it was that I didn't train (heh heh) but my chest was killing me. I thought, if I ever want to seriously exercise and be an active person, three sports bras aren't going to work. And with all the pain I've got in my shoulders, I needed to get this done.

Well, let me tell you, I was pretty nervous. But last night, my dad gave me a blessing and it really helped. I've been talking with a friend of mine who had the same surgery after her senior year of high school and she highly recommended a Priesthood blessing. She's been giving me all sorts of tips and things to plan for and what to expect, I don't think I would've ever felt so prepared and good about getting this done if it hadn't been for her.

At 5:10 am, Mom drove me to Sunnybrook in south Portland. We got there and waited anxiously in the waiting room, filling out questionnaires and getting the last of my consent forms figured out. Then a male nurse, Aaron, came out to get me. He took me back into the prep room, gave me my gown and went over what they were going to do before they put me under. He was really sweet. He told me he had a ten week-old baby and I asked if it was a boy or a girl and he went right to his iPhone and said, "I have to show him off." (: He showed me pictures of his two little boys, Oliver and... Henry? Anyway, then he left so I could get dressed and I thought I could leave my underwear on but I asked anyway. He said, "They want it all off." I think by my expression he could tell I was a little embarrassed. So he added, "Well, it's a long procedure so they might put a catheter in so it's either off here or they take them off for you in the operating room." So I was butt naked, except for my paper gown. I'm sure all you mothers out there are rolling your eyes at my naivete, but I'm still twenty-years old and have had little public experience down there, mind you. Actually none. So there you go.

Anywho, then Aaron put my IV in and stuck a heater in my gown, which I mighty appreciated. And then they stuck calf compressors on my legs to help massage them during the surgery. I figure I wasn't in too much danger for blood clots, considering I sleep four times as long in the middle of the night, but ah well, I didn't mind. (: Then a bunch of people came in and out all asking, "What's your full name?" "Whitney Marissa Call." "And what are we having today?" "Breast reduction." "And what's being operated on today?" "Breasts." "And what will Doctor Jewett be doing for you, today?" "Breast reduction." I was tempted by the fifth time to just say, "They're chopping my boobs off." But it was too early in the morning for me to get cheeky. (:

Then the Jewett himself came in and marked me up with that purple marker you always see in Extreme Makeover or on the surgery channel. He had an assistant watch what he was doing to me, which was basically making sure the incisions made my breasts symmetrical. Then I laid back down and they administered the sedative to me. The room started spinning and hasn't really stopped yet. (: I don't know what I said when they gave me the sedative, really, just that these nurses' jobs must be really fun to listen to people start going cuh-razy.

Then they wheeled me away to the operating room and switched me over to the table, sticking brain monitors to my head and other such monitors to my shoulders. I don't exactly remember what anyone was saying, just that I was being shifted this way and that. Until finally they gave me the gas mask and I was out.

Then I woke up bruised, bandaged and completely bonkers! I must've talked Nancy's ear off. Nancy was the nurse taking care of me post-surgery. I couldn't quite keep my eyes open at first, they kept rolling in the back of my head. But I did note the bandages wrapping me tightly to myself. And the drains. Now I was nervous about having drains pumping out fluids from my incisions, but these aren't all that bad. It's really just to catch blood that still might be around from the stitches and all, but I can't really see where they go in because my bandages cover them up. They showed me how to change them, well, they showed Mom how to change them. Then I fell back asleep, then I woke up, changed, went to the bathroom and was wheeled out of there to the car.

As soon as I got home, I puked, but I think that was due to all the medications and the fact that I was still out of it and the long car ride home and so I'm grateful I only threw up once and it was all water, anyway.

Now, I'm here. On the bed in my room. I've been here all day, keeping ice to my chest and sleeping. But all in all, I don't feel too bad at all. I feel pretty bruised up, but I know bruises. I've had them all my life, so one big one across my chest isn't too difficult to handle. (:

My mom and dad are being super great to me, getting me my meds and food and water and such. Thank goodness for them, because I still get pretty nauseous when I get up to go to the bathroom.

So that's me so far. Day 1 of the new girls. (: I know that was detailed and long-winded but I'm probably still a little loopy, so you got the whole story. I'll keep you updated but so far, I'm already glad I had this done.