Blah, Blah, Blah

I have been talking about blogging for the past month, but could not come up with a direction I wanted to go.  After just reading my last post, I am more hesitant than ever to write now.  It has been six months since I wrote last, and although so much time has passed, I feel like not much has changed.  Which, I guess, is a good thing, right? 

I traveled to Florida twice in August (like a crazy person).  Summer ended.  School started.  Mommom got better.  I turned 28.  I participated in a walk for Autism Awareness.  I traveled to Florida again to watch my very best friend get married.  I ran another 5k.  We ate some turkey.  Hunter Pence got engaged.  

I saw a quote a few weeks back (I know I do this all the time) and it said "Imagine your life was exactly the same in one year.  Would you be happy about that?  If not, what are you afraid to change?"  

I am happy where I am today.   I love my relationships with my family.  I love my friends.  I love house.  I love my job.  I love that I am not a Philadelphia sports fan.  

But, in one year...would I want to be exactly where I am right now?  Honestly, no.  Then I stop and ask myself, what am I afraid to change?  Am I afraid, or am I unsure of how to change, what to change?  Loaded questions. 

I am sitting here, full of raw emotion.  For the last five years the holidays have been masked with many distractions, Mom's breast cancer, my pain, my sister's rehab stays, my surgery, my sister's addiction, again...or still.  This year, for the first year in about five, there is no mask.  

This is going to sound...I don't know, bad?  But, I am afraid.  

I am afraid of spending a couple days with my sister.  It has been a long time since she has been around and even longer since she has been around in a positive light.  I am afraid of the emotions I will feel, of the conversations we will have.  It is hard not waiting for the other shoe to drop. (That is the right saying, I think?) 

This sounds so cliche, and I can't believe I am typing it, but I am afraid of being alone.  People always have said that around the holidays is the time that many people feel that way, but I never really had.  Although I have been "alone" for many years, I have always had an "excuse".  For the first year, maybe ever, I feel like I wish I had someone to share the holiday excitement with.  I joke all the time about being alone forever, being too picky and never finding "the one".  But, I also am confident in the fact that I know what I am looking for and I will not settle.  Until then, I will spend my Christmas season living vicariously through Hallmark movies and wait for the day my prince charming shows up on Christmas Eve and takes me ice skating and bakes cookies with me (or for me, let's be real), while his dad (Santa) prepares for his long night ahead!  

I am afraid of the way I have been feeling, the emotions I have had the past week.  Sad? Anxious? Crazy?  I just can't seem to pinpoint the feeling, but even worse, the reason.  For those of you that know me, my whole purpose of life is finding happiness.  I am happy.  Very.  As I said above, I am in a great place in my life.  But, I feel like I want a change.

A quick side note: it is such an awesome thing, that for the first time in years I am able to sit here and reflect on myself, but it is also the scariest feeling.  

I feel good.  I get headaches, and with all the sneezes and coughs during allergy season, many are triggered.  I have some kids in my classes this year that love to give a big, unexpected, but always welcomed hug, or a kids who needs a quick catch on the monkey bars, both of which can result in headaches.  But, I can walk without tripping (usually), I can hold my beer in my right hand, water isn't spilling out of my mouth, and the tingles are infrequent.  When a Chiari headache hits, I am down for about a 12-hour period, but have yet to have had to miss a day of work or miss out on a preferred activity since September.  This goes in the win column. 

As I am rereading this, I am thinking of the people in the world that have things to complain about.  Those that are suffering from hunger, the cold, loss.  

I am not complaining.  I promise.  I am thankful for my life, my family, my friends, Chinese food. I am blessed beyond belief that I own my own home, love going to work every day, have a DVR.  

This is a self-reflection, one I probably don't need to share with the world, but I swear it is like therapy for me.  So, for all of you that read this looking for my humor and strong-wit, please settle for my honesty in this post. 

I think I have blogged about the quote "Be silly. Be Honest. Be kind." once before, but I saw it again yesterday and I was reminded how much it affects me.  

I am, if I may, one of the silliest people I know.  I make myself laugh, make my friends laugh, and laugh at others humor easily.  I truly believe laughter is the best medicine, and silliness is one of my greatest traits.  

I am, also, one of the most honest people I know.  Sometimes, to a fault.  I am not confrontational, and will not vocalize my opinion on everything, but I will always tell the truth.  If I am feeling something, you will know it.  I feel communication goes hand in hand with this trait.  Communicating, explaining my actions, thoughts, and feelings, prevents me from ever appearing cowardly.  I will, forever, be honest with my feelings. 

Finally, be kind.  I am silly and honest, but above all I am kind.  Not only in the spirit of the holiday but every day, I truly believe a smile can go a long way.  You never know what someone is going through.  A kind word, a quick positive glance can change an entire day.  More than anything, during my recovery, I believe the kind words and gestures meant more than I could ever put into words. 

Again, I apologize for this rant of blah, blah feelings.  I feel that I needed an outlet to release the "crazy" I was feeling.  Although this is not my best written blog post, or my most Chiari-based, I do feel that it helped me breath a little easier tonight, putting my feelings into words.  

Life is good.  It is crazy.  It is scary.  It is eventful.  It has some lulls.  It is frustrating.  It is spontaneous.  It is beautiful.  It is mine.  

I get to choose how to live it.  Same as I chose to keep a optimistic attitude during my brain surgery, same as I chose to understand I had no control over my sisters addiction, I will choose to determine what changes I want to see in myself, and I will do what I can to make the change.  

As I have stated many, many times over the last few years, nothing changes if nothing changes. 

It's the Circle of Life.

Happy almost 4th of July!  I know I often start my posts claiming I can not believe how fast time goes.  But seriously, July? How? 

On this Independence Day Weekend, I found myself thinking about independence in general.  Not in the way I am probably supposed to be thinking about it, like "thank you America for my freedom".  But more so, "Thank you Mom and Dad for all the opportunities and support you have given me to have the skills to be independent."  And honestly, this morning, I wasn't even thinking it in relation to myself, believe it or not, I was thinking it in terms of my sister.  But, I will get back to that in a minute. 

I want to toot my own horn and really my cousin Allie's horn for, once again, getting me to do something outside of my Chiari comfort zone.  Back in February, Allie talked me into going to Vermont to go snowboarding.  I was extremely fearful, if you remember reading that post, as those dang ski lifts are what I blame for the start of my Chairi journey.  Last weekend, Allie (and my Aunt Kara - she deserves some credit too) asked me to go to Hershey Park for the weekend.  We would do the park all day Friday, do Chocolate World, the pool and babysit the four kids while Ka, G, and another couple went to a concert on Saturday, and leave when we wanted to on Sunday.  Kara actually asked me back in the beginning of May if I would be interested in the trip and I fed her a real excuse, "It will be the end of June, I will be on the beach, sorry!" But, when she frantically asked Allie the day before the trip, and we noticed the crappy weather heading our way, we both agreed it would be something fun to do for the weekend.  

I say Al got me out of my comfort zone because a rule I made after getting the surgery, is that I would stay away from roller coasters.  Don't get me wrong, I am not "Miss Thrill Seeker".  I walked in the park and "noped" two of the new roller coasters.  However, I do love a good roller coaster.  

Growing up, the Great Bear was one of my favorites.  The minute I saw it, I knew, there was no way I was going to comfortably ride it without triggering a "stupid headache" (as I referred to it much of the trip).  Anything with a harness over your head, quickly became "noped".  I was talked into Trailblazer and Super Dooper Looper.  Although I have to admit, once was enough for both.  I felt like the entire time the ride was in action, I was thinking about how my neck was placed, was my head moving, should I use my hands to hold it in place, and then reality would click in, heck no, that would mean I have to let go of this hand rail!  At the end of the night, I was talked into the new indoor, glow in the dark, twisty roller coaster, Laff Trakk.  It was the longest we waited the entire day, plenty of time to debate  my choice of going on.  I was justifying the whole time, it's new, it'll be smooth, it's fast, it will be over quickly, it is the last ride of the day and if I get a headache, oh well.  I NEEDED to go on. I did. AND OH MY GOSH IT WAS AWESOME!  

The doctor warned me to be very careful in amusement parks.  It was not a "restriction", but more so what I call a cautious suggestion.  I was cautious.  I did not go on all the rides I wanted to, but I went on the ones that were going to prevent a headache from being triggered.  I was still able to go an entire day of walking in a park, water park slides and swimming, and even ride on roller coasters.  Two years ago, this whole trip would have been "noped". 

On Saturday, I devoured Advil, many times. but so did Allie and my uncle.  I had a headache and my body HURT, but I think it was more so exhaustion and dehydration.  It never turned into a full on Chiari headache.  I can truthfully say, it was an accomplishment for me, just like the 5k and snowboarding.  A full day in an amusement park and riding roller coasters are both things I would never even consider doing.  I am thankful for my family (especially Allie) who keeps "making" me do things that I am so hesitant to do.  :) 

Okay, back to the 4th of July and the idea of independence.  Life is funny, comes to a full circle.  I saw a Lion King quote today that said, "You need to find your place in the Circle of Life."  Thinking about it today, I see how the people so close to me are all in different places in life.  So weird, you are born, you are taken care of, you are taught to independently dress yourself, independently make your bed, independently make your lunch, independently walk into school, independently do your homework, independently drive, and then BOOM. Real world.  

In college, I lived on my own, I was independent, right? HA! Mom and Dad got me a school loan, I did not do that independently.  Mom and Dad paid for my apartment, I was not paying for that independently.  Mom and Dad paid for half of my car that got me to and from school each day, something else I did not do independently.  Mom and Dad kept my room in their house for me to come back to when I was feeling sad, excited, or just needed a break.  I still NEEDED my Mom and Dad.  

Yes, I made many of my own decisions at this time.  I independently chose to be a teacher, even if I second guessed myself and spent a semester in nursing, and a summer questioning how I could be a teacher and a hair dresser.  But, in reality, I, myself, made the choice to be a teacher.  I independently made my friends.  I independently grocery shopped with my money (except when I stole from Mom's house).  I independently paid for my gas money.  I had a taste of what independence was, but really, feel like I still have no idea.  

After graduating was even worse.  I needed my parents.  I lived at their house.  I ate their food.  I begged for their support when finding a job was hard.  I craved hugs to remind me that its okay that life feels tough.  I used their storage to keep all my teacher things as I jumped from job to job.  I needed help when it came time to figure out what the heck was wrong with my body.  I needed Mom to drive me to appointments and understand what the next steps were.  I needed her to call the insurance companies to understand what was being covered and what THEY would need to pay.  

After the surgery, I was the least independent I have ever been.  Mom was bathing me, feeding me, and both her and Dad were literally carrying me at times. 

Now, I own my own house.  But again, couldn't do it without my parents.  I wouldn't have known how to begin the process, wouldn't have understood the mortgage process, wouldn't have known where to find half the paperwork I needed, and would have been scared out of my mind.  I wouldn't have been able to take down the lights I didn't like, put in the new chandeliers, put in the ceiling fans, or throw a house warming party.  

I thank God every day for the relationship I have with my parents and that they have taught me the skills to be as independent as I can at each stage of my life.  I will never be able to put into words the appreciation I have.  

Now, that being said (long and boring, sorry!) I want to give my sister a shout out.  If you have read my blog before, you know she has struggles.  She is an addict that has been through quite a journey fighting the disease. She has been independent to what I would say is a fault.  She makes her own decisions and her own choices and does not ask for help from those that love her and support her.  She has been very dependent on drugs and on people that were not good company for her.  There have been many times that I am frustrated, angry and in all honesty, resent her.  

But, in the last three weeks her independence has been a strength.  She moved down to Florida with a friend.  She made the plan completely on her own.  I admit, I was very angry that she would want to leave the possible life she had up here with us, the people that love her most.  As the time passes, I can see, it was best she left. It was best that she made the independent choice to leave.  She had no money, no car, no job, she only had hope that this would be a better life for her.  She was going to figure out how to live down there independently.  

Then, she was in the hospital.  She was yellow in color, horrible stomach pains and just not feeling "right".  After a few days it was decided they would release her and she would need to see a GI doctor.  Fast forward three weeks, and she just got her gall bladder out. 

My sister is by herself.  She independently made phone calls to find a doctor down there that takes her insurance.  She independently went to doctor's appointments.  She independently dealt with the fear, sadness and unknown.  Yes, she has her friend and my cousin and uncle live near by.  But, what about Mom?  What about Dad?  Jackson?  and Me?  How is she doing it?  

I know this is just a difference of personalities.  I am too close to my family and dependent and emotional.  She is independent, brave and strong.  I can not imagine ever doing any part of that process without the physical support of my family.  Yes, we were here, 10 states up, calling and sending positive thoughts and prayers.  But physically, we are here, 10 states up, with nothing to do but call and send positive thoughts and prayers.  And, Maggie, she was okay with it.  

So Mag, if you are reading this.  I am proud of you.  I am proud of the strength you had.  I am proud of your independence during the process.  I love you. 

Independence is just a crazy thing.  I look at my parents and how they both were so independent at such a young age.  I look at my sister, brother and I, all my friends, cousins, and I see how different independence looks nowadays.  I look at how different it looks for each of us. I also look at my grandparents.  They have been independent since they were 17 years old.  Now, as they get older, have more aches and pains and become a little more forgetful, they need to give up some of their independence and become a little more dependent on their kids.  I watch my mom, aunts and uncles, wanting to help and not sure where the dependence line is drawn.  Life is just so funny how it really is a full circle.  Now Mommom and Bub, if you are reading this, don't read too far into this.  We love you and just want you to feel better! ;) 

I apologize to all my Chiari followers that are sitting here thinking, what the heck is this girl talking about, none of this has to do with Chiari or headaches.  Actually, just writing this is giving me a headache.  The way life works, its events, its obstacles, the reality of it all, is it is overwhelming.  It can give you non-Chiari people a headache.  Living life in pain, of any sort, physical like us Chiarians, emotional pain like many face, is hard.  Living my life with Chiari, pre-surgery I was dependent.  Dependent on my parents, on medicine and on ice packs.  Living life with Chiari, post-surgery I am independent.  Once again, I thank my parents, family, friends, and Dr. Vez for letting me be able to comfortably find my place in this circle of life.  

I hate when I finish a blog and don't feel like I got my point across.  I actually stopped writing for about three hours this morning because I had no idea how to conclude it.  I still don't.  This was more or less a post of me debating whether or not where I am in life is where I am supposed to be.  I saw another quote when I was searching about the circle of life and independence.  It said, "Be with who makes you happy".  I can contently, honestly, and truthfully say I am happy, and isn't that what is most important in life?  Happiness?  I make me happy. 

The rain down here in LBI is crazy, my head is a bit tingly, and I just got to play with two three year olds which made my morning more fun.  Like I said, I have no real direction to go from here and not sure what I want to end on, so I guess I will just say Hakuna Matata and have a happy, healthy and safe holiday!!! :) 

Today I Will Smile...

I mean, really, every day I smile.  It is one of the best things about me ... if I may say so myself. I am a happy person with a positive outlook on life.  I love the simple things in life.  

If you have read this before, you know I love my family, my friends, my faith, my job.  I love giraffes, airplanes, Pittsburgh sports, warm weather and sunshine.  I love pickles, TV shows, Hunter Pence and Rickie Fowler, the beach, the color yellow, country music.  I love going to the driving range, having a catch, and dare I say, going for a run?! I love grilled cheese and Daddy Soup. I LOVE surprises, wearing underwear and a T-shirt, flowers or thoughtful gifts that are unexpected.   I'm easy to please...

I just saw that ABC News is doing a special on a boy that goes to Saint Joe's and has Chiari.  He has had two surgeries, the first not being as successful as mine.  He is determined to get himself back on the baseball field.  Jamie Apody tells me it is an inspirational story.  My favorite kind!  

I am literally sitting here, waiting to watch the story, like a kid getting ready to open Christmas presents. I am so excited. A positive twist on Chiari is right up my alley. OH MY GOSH AND GUESS WHAT? The boy that the story is about, just friend requested me on Facebook!  Life is so cool. 

I am excited that there is awareness being spread in a positive way!  I have said it once, twice and will a million more times but my experience was the best it ever could have been.  I loved my doctor, I loved the hospital, I loved the cool glass sliding doors to my room, I loved my nurses, I loved the food at the hospital, I loved the hospital visitors I had, I loved the texts, gifts, flowers, balloons, and cool, unique gifts I got!  I loved that my doctor did not shave too much of my hair.  I loved that he pretended he was going to listen to my "funny story" before the anesthesia kicked in.  I loved my baby hairs as they grew back.  I loved my ice packs.  I loved getting hooked on Sons of Anarchy, Homeland and Shameless.  I loved having milkshakes for breakfast and chocolate covered strawberries for lunch.  I loved all the cards I got in the mail and I loved the people that reached out, people I never would have expected. Did I mention that I love surprises?!

Last week, I had a HORRIBLE Chiari headache.  I woke up feeling it in my neck, but took some Advil and went to work.  I had a field trip to go see the Jungle Book at the Arden Theater, noway was I going to miss it.  I knew my little friends were going to love it!  I did okay, but by the time I took the bus there, accounted for all 24 kiddos fifty times, shh'd my friend that was calling out to all the actors, reassured the whiny, hungry ones they would survive the last half hour, that it was only one episode of their favorite show, got them back on the noisy bus, and home to their parents...I was literally dying.  It was the worst pain that I ever remembered.  But, then, I did remember.  This is what I felt like every day.  

I got to my other school around 1:00.  I tried to eat, maybe that was what was causing the headache.  Chugged two bottles of water, maybe that was what was causing the headache.  Nope.  I sat in the chair by the computer, my co-worker BFF put a divider up between me and the classroom, and I rested with my eyes shut and an ice pack from the nurse. I was nauseous. I was dizzy.  I couldn't keep my eyes open.  I drove home, slowly.  I walked, well crawled, up my steps, got an ice pack, laid on the couch at 4:15.  I woke up at 6:30.  I took an Advil PM and a regular Advil.  I was asleep by 7:15 and slept until morning.  

That is exactly how I was living pre-surgery.  I forgot.  I forgot how much Chiari really hurts.  I forgot how much Chiari impacts daily life.  I forgot how Chiari affected which activities and events that I attend.  I forgot how much Chiari affected my excitement for things.  I forgot how much Chiari pain spread across my body. I really, truly, honestly forgot how much Chiari sucks.  

I believe God gives me these headaches to remind me ... Chairi Malformation Brain Decompression Surgery was single-handedly the best decision I have made for myself to date.  I have joked before, I wasn't really given the "choice" to have the surgery, but I made the choice to be positive.  I made the choice to be hopeful.  I made the choice to be faithful.  I made the choice to rely on my support systems.  I made the choice to make this the best experience it could be.  And, it was.  Is it wrong of me to say, it was oddly a favorite time of my life? 

Everyone has their shit.  My go-to motto of life.  Other than my Let go, Let God and Life is Good.  Everyone.  Every single person is dealing with some kind of, well for lack of a better word ... shit.  I had brain surgery, my sister is an addict, my mom had breast cancer, my brother has made dumb decisions and getting himself out of trouble, my dad has what he calls "baby cancers" cut out of his skin.  All shit.  

Some friends have parents that are dying.  Some friends have siblings that are questioning their sexuality.  Some friends have kids even though they weren't sure they were ready.  Some friends are in debt, still not able to move to the next stage of their life because of it.  Some friends questioning their relationships with their significant others, others questioning their relationships with God.  Some friends got a flat tire on their way to work, some spilled their coffee, and hey, some just have a headache. Again, it is all just shit. 

If we are all dealing with something, why can't we all just breath, relax.  Deal with it?  Continue to do things we love, do things that make us happy.  Why do we dwell?  Why do we question God and His plan?  Why do we always ask the "what ifs"?  

What if we all just accept life for what it is?  A chance to be the best version of ourselves. 

I am trying to practice what I am preaching.  About a year ago, when my sister started her recovery once again, and was seemingly taking it very seriously, she told me that she often thought us "normal" people should work the steps.  I remember I wrote about my thoughts about it in a previous blog.  Now, after having her relapse and enter recovery once again, I thought more about it.  She was right.  We should all get a chance to face admit we are powerless over many things in life, face our demons whatever they may be, accept the things we can not change, have the courage to change what we can, make amends with those we have hurt, and help others that are going through similar things.  

Recently, a friend gave me a book that is used in Families Anonymous.  A "Big Book" for us "normal" peeps.  Normal? Yeah right!  But, really, this book has been a savior the past few days.  It has put words to emotions that I have been feeling for months, years!  Each passage ends with a "Today I will ..."  These have been my favorite.  Hence the title, "Today I will Smile".  I am so happy to have something to give me strength, hope, and confidence that I will find peace with the things I can not control. 

So this blog went from tooting my own horn about how awesome I am and easy to please (...and I don't have a boyfriend why???), to reminiscing about how awesome my surgery and recovery went, to believing that everyone has shit and no one has stinkier shit than the rest, and ended reminding myself that I am in control of my own happiness.  Sorry for the rambling mess of words.  I have never been organized (you can ask my Mama or coworkers), but I hope my points were made.  

If nothing else, the moral of the blog is the same as many others I have written...

Life is SO Good.   

Running in Circles

I wrote that title, and I don't even know why I felt it was appropriate, but I'm sure I will spend the rest of this post justifying it. 

Running. I did run the Phillies 5k. Ran. The whole thing. I was on such an adrenalin high afterwards, that in understood why people enjoy it. I have never been a runner.  I don't enjoy it, but in that moment, I felt like a runner, who in fact, enjoyed it. Before my surgery I never would have considered running any distance. And by choice? No way in hell.  After the race, the girls and I went out and got a drink to celebrate our individual victories. I couldn't have done it without them. 

And yet, the next 52 hours, I was in pure pain.  I slept for about 24 of them, laid around with ice on my neck and shoulders, and cried a lot.  That being said, I refuse to believe it was the run that triggered this headache. I believe that in my excitement and crazy stances I may have lashed my neck forward, I may have strained my neck carrying that heavy medal around it or maybe I even sneezed!  I wanted to complain. I really did. But, I couldn't. I was so proud of myself. I took those two and a half days as a reminder of why I had the surgery. It was a reminder that this is how I was living pre-surgery. Feeling disabled like that, was my daily life. Two days, no big deal.  Since those 52 hours have been over, I have run equal distance and time with no problems.  I can enjoy my runs without fear of a disabling headache. Yay. 

So 5k race, check. Hosting a housewarming party, check. 2nd Brainiversary, check.  Pens clinch a playoff spot tonight, hopefully check.  Phillies started playing again, check. Nice weather should be moving in, check. I work with my best friends, check.  Got a cool giraffe shirt in my Easter basket, check.  Seemingly, things are going well. 

And yet, again, my sister is not doing well. All over the internet today, there are updates and statuses about national sibling day.  It makes me sad. I know, I know, made up holiday.  But, shouldn't every day be sibling day? Shouldn't you be able to call your sibling to talk about a new song that is out or go out to eat your favorite hot dogs? Shouldn't you be able to open your Easter baskets alongside one another, celebrate birthdays? Shouldn't you be laughing about that time we were driving on the wrong side of the road or when we hit the duck? Shouldn't it be easier for me to think of happy memories to write about? Shouldn't I be excited to show off a picture of us 3? I'm not.

 I'm sad. I'm scared. I'm jealous. I'm mad. I'm angry.  I'm sad that you chose to leave a safe place. I'm scared for the life you will lead now.  I'm jealous you have chosen to love something more than us. I'm mad that you have left us.  I'm angry that I'm writing this as if you no longer exist. 

Lastly, I'm hopeful. Less so than I used to be, but I continue to have faith. Faith that He will keep you safe. Faith that He has a plan for you. Faith that He will help you find happiness. Faith that He will help us four find forgiveness. 

And to my brother, thank you for being there to call when I have a new show to tell you about. Thanks for listening to me yell at you for silly decisions. Thanks for loving chips and dip, the Penguins and the shore as much as I do. Thanks for being funny, confident, and loving. Happy siblings day to you Dewey. I love you. 

After spending a family filled, overly lazy, paperwork doing, rainy. crappy eating, Troy Polamalu retiring, non-exercising spring break, I am very ready to get back into my routine.  As I mentioned many times in my earlier blogs, anytime that I have a lack of structure (especially combined with dreaded rain) I find myself overanalyzing, lonely and anxious. That's not me. I'm ready to get back to what I love, my job, my best friends/coworkers/therapists :), and of course my kiddos. 

So, here I am finishing up and realizing I never came full circle, to my running in circles title. I guess that's how I feel. That I'm constantly moving in a circle, in all obstacles of my life. I have these ups and downs and ups again. I start all my paperwork, finish it, and have to start again. I clean my floors, walk on them, have to clean again.  My sister does well, and then we start back at the beginning again. I start to date someone I like, but end up back where I started.  The Phillies allow 6 runs, get two, and allow two more. I grocery shop, eat, have to go again. I feel excited, lots to look forward to, hit anxiety, then start over again.  I sleep well, have sleepless nights, and catch up again. I know, I know, this is life.  Just somedays, I wish I could walk a bit more of a straight line. 

Oh well, ending on a positive note, looking forward to warm weather, Phillies winning a game, Penguins clinching, spring clothes and longer days!  

I Feel a Blog Comin' On...

Went to lunch with Mom, Dad and Jackson today and on the way home, Mom asked what my afternoon held.  I said, "Eh, I think I might go write a blog."  She said, "You feel a blog comin' on!"  I laughed.  I use that phrase "I feel a blog comin' on" almost every time that I, well, feel a blog coming on.  

Its almost like I get to a point that I want to share what has happened, is happening, or might happen.  It is like I organize all my thoughts in my brain and decide what is important to write and what can be left out.  Okay, if you have read previous posts, you know that the thoughts aren't very "organized", but at least I know what I want to say. 

Actually, as I am writing that introduction, I am realizing, I don't even really know why I decided I wanted to write this weekend.  Things in my life are pretty constant right now, which is funny because for the first time in probably years I can say that.  

As far as Chiari, it has impacted me slightly more than less lately.  I have had headaches and some tingles.  My ice pack has seen a little more action than it had all summer and I have stayed in once or twice due to the headache.  I did also have a 24-hour followed by a horrible head cold for the past two weeks.  The head cold itself wouldn't have been so bad, however the minute I got into a coughing fit, a Chiari headache was triggered.  It reminded me of pre-surgery, when I would sneeze and be down for the count for the next 48 hours.  Luckily, after a good nights sleep, the headache did go away, but it was a rough 12 hours for me.  

When I went snowboarding (Yes! I did it!) I successfully got on and off the ski lift every time.  The mountain we went to was gorgeous, with unbelievable views and the softest snow I have ever felt.  When I fell, it was like I was falling on clouds.  After not being on a mountain in three years, and never really being good at the sport, I was very hesitant the first few times down the mountain.  Luckily, my cousin and the rest of the people we were with were very patient.  I made it down the small mountain two times without falling and with ease.  Then we went to the longer trails.  These were so fun.  Allie spent time with me, helping me gain confidence in using my front edge.  By the time I went down for the sixth or seventh time, I was fully confident.  Then, I was too confident.  I got the speed and started going, hit a small icy patch (leave it to me to find the only one on the mountain), the board went up, and my lower back and butt went down.  I laid there.  The thoughts going through my head, "Am I okay? Can I move? What hurts? Is Allie yelling my name?" "I'll be okay in a minute," I yelled down to her as I lifted my body to an upright position.  I got myself up, but it took a lot of effort and it hurt, bad.  I did do two more runs with them, but decided to sit in the lodge during their last two runs.  I think it was the right decision.  The good news was it never triggered a headache even though I fell hard.  The bad news is that I can still feel the pain in my lower back, especially when getting in and out of the car and putting on my socks.  Ouch. 

Switching back to Chairi for a second, even though I was slightly complaining, I honestly can't believe all I am capable of compared to where I was.  Thinking about my days, waking up, getting ready, teaching Kindergarten, running at lunch, teaching Pre-K, going to a meeting, tutoring, having dinner with family or friends, babysitting for a bit, not getting home until 7:30-9:00.  Never.  I wouldn't have been able to do it.  Ever.  Now, I really can survive a normal day with no pain.  I try to put it in perspective when I have a slight headache, this is how a normal 27 year old lives. It is normal to have the occasional headache, who doesn't? I am normal.  

Total side note, one of my aides in my morning class sent me an email last week, that she said made her think of me.  It said, "I tried to be normal once.  Those were the worst two minutes ever."  Cracked me up.  I think she meant it as a nice thing. ;) 

If you have read my blogs before, you know one of my favorite sayings is "Everyone has their shit".  We got talking about this again at lunch today.  We, Mom, Dad, Jackson and I, live in a world of addiction.  It is not a secret.  We, as a family, have never kept it a secret.  

My sister is an addict.  She struggles daily with making the right choices and with battling this disease.  I whole-heartedly believe she wants to do right in the world.  She wants to be the caring, passionate, handy, strong, beautiful, and hysterical daughter and sister she once was.  She is battling this horrific, appalling, sickening, hellish, selfish, disease.  

But, so are we.  We didn't smoke the first joint, pop the first pill, or put a needle in our arm.  But, we have been in this with her from the beginning.  At first enabling her, then practicing tough love, trying to achieve forgiveness, and most recently, accepting.  

I am accepting the fact that I can not, nor can Jackson, or my parents, or my grandparents, or cousins, or aunts or uncles, her old friends, or her old boyfriends, change her.  We can not make her want to get better.  We can not make her want to spend time with us.  We can not make her stop washing her hands ten times an hour.  We can not stop her from picking at her hands and toes.  We can not help with her OCD tendencies.  We can not help her budget her money.  We can not get her a job.  We can not stop her from buying her drug of choice.  We can not care more than she does.  I have accepted it.  

Acceptance doesn't mean I am not angry, mad, furious, hurt and very sad that my sister is a stranger to me.  Acceptance doesn't mean that I don't think about it daily and that I don't still cry over it.  Acceptance doesn't mean that I don't question God sometimes asking why he has chosen this plan for my family.  Acceptance doesn't mean that I don't question my own actions sometimes, still asking what more can I do.

Acceptance means I have learned what I CAN do, what I CAN control.  I can pray for her.  I can send her a nice message to remind her I love her.  I can remind her that rehab is a safe place for her.  I can remind her I hope one day she will be in my wedding.  I can remind her that I want her to be around to be an aunt to my children some day.  I can understand that supporting and enabling has a fine line and I do not want to cross it.  I can live my life doing the things I love with those I love.  I can spend time with my mom, dad and my brother, knowing that we are all in this together and are there to lean on one another.  I can accept that fact that we are all still in this together.  

Addiction is a thief.  Addiction has stolen the love from my sister and replaced it with obsession.  Addiction has stolen reality and clarity from my sister, and has her living in a foggy, falsified world.  Addiction has stolen my sister's future and has now placed her in a stand-still world.  Addiction has stolen my sweet, silly, smart sister from me and replaced her with an unrecognizable person.  Addiction has stolen some of the great, genuine memories of her and replaced them with miserable, messy nightmares.  Addiction can only be replaced by recovery, and unfortunately, recovery has to be her choice.  

I will always love the addict, but I will forever hate the addiction.

I apologize for turning this what is supposed to be positive, Chiari-based blog into an addiction rant, but this is the truth.  This is the "shit" that my family has.  We discussed at lunch today the importance of sharing our story.  We are not ashamed of our story, we hope it will help others.  

As always, I believe life is good.  God gives his hardest battles to his strongest soldiers.  My family has been fighting quite an ugly war, but only to prove we can handle it.  We support each other, we love each other, and we still want only what is best for one another.  We have stuck together through breast cancer, brain surgery, and on-going addiction.  We will stick together through whatever God chooses to bring on as the next obstacle.  

I feel like I mentioned once before, prayers before bed as a little girl.  My favorite part being when Mom or Dad would say, "Keep the girls good girls, happy girls and healthy girls, and Jackson a good boy, happy boy, and healthy boy."  I continue to say this prayer everyday as I believe in the simplest way, it tells God what my parents want most for us.  

I have written many blog posts about hope and how much I believe in it.  Today, I hope my sister will enter recovery again.  I hope my headaches subside again.  I hope my Mom stays in remission.  I hope my brother continues to make the right decisions.  I hope dad puts sunscreen on when he goes golfing.  I hope the groundhog was wrong.  I hope Hunter Pence breaks up with his girlfriend.  I hope Orange is the New Black comes back sooner than later.  I hope I get to go on an airplane soon.  I hope I make a change in some of my student's lives.  I hope I can spread happiness with just a kind smile. I hope I always believe life is good! 

Lastly, BRAINIVERSARY IN JUST TWO SHORT WEEKS!!! YAY!!! :) February 28th will be two years since my surgery.  Time flies when you feel good!  I think my brainiversary is now my second favorite holiday, behind my birthday.  I am having a housewarming party (finally!) on my brainiversary.  I decided it was a good way to celebrate all the accomplishments in the last two years!  So excited! 

As always, thanks to all my peeps! 

New Year, Facing Fears?

Okay, so...for those of you that follow me on Facebook, you know I had a rough time last weekend with severe Chiari symptoms.  

I started Saturday morning with a bit of a headache, took some Advil and continued with my day.  Mom and I did some car shopping for her.  As we waited for the paperwork to come through, I sat very uncomfortably.  I had plans that night, so I decided I would go home and shower.  However, the shower did not happen (big shocker, I know).  I, instead, laid down and took an hour nap and left myself twenty minutes to get ready, showerless.  I did feel okay when I woke up.  Cautiously popped some more Advil and went on my way.  I did laugh my butt off at a comedy show and really had a lot of fun with college friends.  Suck that Chiari.

Sunday morning I woke up and I was really struggling.  I did get up, popped an extra Advil, did some house stuff and decided to go to Mom and Dad's for lunch.  After lunch, ran an errand with mom, but told her we needed to go home.  I was in a lot of pain.  It was making me extremely nauseous and uncomfortable in my neck and arms.  I went home, rested, and iced my neck the rest of the day. After another good night sleep, I did wake up on Monday feeling much better. 

I knew all week I wanted to write a blog.  A lot has been going on.  I just didn't know how much or how little I wanted to write...and also don't have a computer at my house right now so needed to wait for some convenience.  

Here I am...still unsure. 

First, I can not believe it is 2015.  Second, I can't believe my brainaversiary is in a little over a month.  Third, despite this past weekend, I can't believe I have felt as good as I have.  Fourth, how is football season almost over?  Geesh.  

I am thankful it is a new year.  The last few months of 2014 were a little bizarre.  

My sister no longer lives with my parents and is on her own.  She is doing well, but not knowing her almost every move scares us all a bit.  I need to give a shout out to my extremely strong, caring, loving, strong, tireless, understanding, patient, and have I mentioned STRONG? parents who have put out every effort and given every opportunity to all three of us.  I am so glad we are all at a place now where we are understanding of our situations and although we don't agree with each other's every decision, we have accepted it and moved towards a caring and loving relationship between us all.  I am thankful for my family. 

Totally switching gears I have not had a roommate since the end of November.  Coincidentally, I feel the complete opposite way about not having one as I did about a year ago.  I do love having my own space.  I like not folding my blanket on the couch each day.  I like waiting a week before getting my mail.  I like walking to get a glass of water in my underwear or towel.  I like binge watching whatever the heck I want as many times as I want.  I like watching RedZone all day Sunday and turning on the Pens game.  I like going to bed at 8 o'clock with no judgement.  But, I also liked that extra money.  Luckily for my health, it is not stressing me out as much as it was a year ago.  I am just spreading the word that I am looking for someone to live with me...preferably someone that doesn't mind my unfolded blankets, getting belated birthday cards, seeing me in underwear or a towel, binge watching reruns of Friends, watching me cheer for Pittsburgh teams, and respects early bedtimes.  Really, I am not asking a lot...right? ;) And as my friend Court says, you will get to live with the most beautiful, funny and sarcastic girl out there. Just a bonus.

This week was weird.  I am scared.  I didn't even know I was scared.  

Since my Chiari surgery, I have sworn off roller coasters as much as I do enjoy them.  Noway am I risking that whiplash trigger of a headache!  

This week, I was invited to go on a ski trip in a few weeks.  I have been back and forth all week on what makes sense.  I kept telling my cousin and myself that noway, I don't have a roommate, I can't afford that right now.  The more I talked about it with my family and analyzed it, I do have the money.  I budgeted for stuff like this. 

I am scared out of my mind of going snowboarding.  I have always enjoyed the sport.  I have been many times -- pre-surgery.  This will be my cow-heart's first time on a board, on a mountain, on a ski lift.  You would think, "Oh Amy, the atmospheric pressure won't bother you that much".  Or, "Just take it easy, do the bunny hills."  Unfortunately, neither of those are my biggest fears.  Those dang ski lifts. 

When I was twelve years old I was hit in the head with a ski lift.  As I was getting on, the girl next to me fell over causing me to also.  The man working the lift was yelling out, "Watch your head!"  I could not hear him, turned around, and BANG! hit me right in the forehead.  

That was the start of my headaches.  I was diagnosed a few weeks later with what they called cluster headaches.  Except now, all these years later, I have come to understand that that was the day my Chiari was triggered.  Do I want to go back to that?

Besides those mean moving chairs, I am also scared that I will fall on the mountain and quite possibly trigger a headache.  I do know that my cousin will be with me, take care of me, and be understanding if I am feeling down.  But, is that fair to her?

I do not like this.  
I do not like that I made the excuse of money to mask the fear of going.  
I do not like that I almost let the fear keep me from going.  
I do not want to be that cow-heart girl! 

(as I wrote that part I thought of the quote in The Help that says, "You is kind. You is smart.  You is important." --- which I don't really need to repeat to myself, I already know that stuff.  Confidence, not a problem of mine ;) ) 

On a positive note, I do like that my mom and cousin have the patience to talk me through this fear.  I do like that I am going to power through and go.  I do like that there are shops at the bottom of the mountain, that the hotel is very close, and most of all, the bar and fireplace are just at the bottom.  I know I will be okay.  I know I will not miss out on an opportunity to spend time with my cousin, meet new people, and do something new. Thanks Mama and Pal for dealing with me.  

With no fear, I signed up for my first 5k.  The incentives made it worth it.  Just kidding, kind of.  One of my friends asked me if I would be interested in doing the Phillies 5k.  At first I was thinking of a bajillion excuses why I wouldn't, but the more I thought about it, why the heck not.  Free tickets to two games, a shirt, and most importantly A GOLD MEDAL!? I will feel like a true winner!  Also, two years ago, HECK NO!  There is not a chance I would have agreed.  This is something I will feel like is an accomplishment.  I am not a good runner, I hate to exercise.  However, I can...and I will.  

AHHHH. 

That was a complete ramble post and I apologize.  

Before I end it, I do want to say that I love my family.  I love my cousins. I love my friends.  I love my job.  I love that my coworkers are some of my best friends.  I love kids.  I love that I get to play with them all day.  I love my house.  I love my bed.  I love sports.  I love driving.  I love country music.  I love watching TV.  I love a cold beer.  I love airplanes.  I love the beach.  I love pickles and chips.  I whole-heartedly, truly, deeply, genuinely LOVE life.  

I saw this quote this morning that made me laugh, even though it's not really funny.  

"Never apologize for being sensitive or emotional.  Let this be a sign that you've got a big heart and aren't afraid to let others see it.  Showing your emotions is a sign of strength."

My family, my friends and my coworkers will probably all giggle because they know, and I can say with complete confidence, that I wear my emotions on my sleeves.  I believe in honesty and showing my feelings always.  If I love something, you know it.  If I don't, you know it.  If I find something funny, entertaining or sweet you know it.  If I am sad, frustrated or mad, you know it.  This quote made me realize how okay that is.  I do have a big heart.  It is ALWAYS full of emotions...usually mixed ones.  But, above all else.  I am strong.  It is because of my support system.  I love my life because of all of the people in it and a good part because of my cow heart. 

So, in all, after all that rambling, thank you to all of my peeps.