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. 

Bittersweet Answers

I have received so many phone calls, texts, Facebook messages, etc. in the last forty-eight hours expressing concern, fears, support, and my all time favorite, humor.

Over the last three summers I have laughed at the fact that I had been invited to nearly twenty weddings.  I make the joke, "I didn't even know I had that many friends!"  I remember thinking the same back when I had my surgery, and I have thought it about thirty times in the last two days again.  It amazes me the amount of support I receive from not only my family, good friends, fellow zipper-heads, but from the long-lost friends, brand new friends, and friends of friends, that in a nutshell, are strangers.  If nothing else in this whole experience, I have learned the importance of sharing a kind word or gesture no matter how big or small.  I know I sound like a broken record, but everyone has their shit and you honestly never know, flashing that smile, can truly, honestly, completely turn a day around for someone.

Okay, thankful, positive rant over.  Onto these "answers".

Good news: My Chiari has not reformed.  My tonsils are exactly where they should be after they were cauterized during the surgery.  My blood flow is "beautiful" and they see very little turbulence. 

Bad news: The pain is most likely caused by my Chiari. 

Sounds like a riddle huh?

I sat on the phone and literally said, "Okay, soooooooooooo...."

I've read many, many people's blogs and stories of Chiari and how frustrating it can be.  How doctor's aren't understanding of symptoms, are at a total loss, etc.  I honestly don't feel like this is the case with my neurosurgeon.  I love him, remember?  I think he knows he has now done everything he can do to help me at this point with my Chiari.  He has made my brain "look" the way it should.

But I still have to say, OUCH!

Luckily, when I did my extended "soooooooooo...", the physician's assistant said although there is nothing Dr. Vez can do to help my pain surgically (thank goodness, really), there is my neurologist that I originally went to in 2009.  He is there to help support me with pain management and strategies to cope.  She reminded me that he did in fact correctly diagnose my Chiari.  I really felt like she was on my side, trying to calm my nerves that I was stuck with this pain forever.  I got off the phone feeling relieved, anxious, happy, sad, overwhelmed, disappointed, and really optimistically scared.  Oxymorons, I know.

So here I sit, today feeling pretty okay.  I have had twenty-four hours to soak it all in and accept that I need to be proactive if I want to get my new aches and pains under control.  I understand Chiari has no cure, has no forever-fix.  I understand everyone has aches, pains, and hurts.  I understand I do not need to panic.  I understand that Chiari is just going to be a part of who I am, and I will learn to use any resource I can to help feel relief as I need to.

There we go.  I don't know if these are the answers I was looking for, or if they are even answers at all.  But I am very okay with the fact that I do not need to undergo another brain surgery, the fact my doctor isn't concerned that the paralyzing feeling will damage my nerves forever, and the fact that now this is the new bump in the road that I will overcome.

That's just life, right?  Hey, but at least life is good. :)

Look Who's Back, Back Again ...

Freaking Chiari.  That is what is back again.  A little Eminem to start this rainy morning. 

Actually Eminem didn't start this rainy day for me.  An MRI and a Cine Blood Flow study at Capital Health did. 

I delayed writing a blog, just because I have felt that I was being a Negative Nancy in the past few weeks and if you've read this before, you know how much I hate that.

However, today I posted a picture of my hospital bracelet so I think it is absolutely time to explain what is happening these days.

About a month ago I mentioned getting knocked in the waves while playing my dolphin and seal game and triggering a headache and some tingling.  For the next few weeks I had a lot of pain around where most of my Chiari headaches originate.  Two weeks ago, I was closing the windows in my loft and had a tough time pulling one down.  Using a lot of effort and my killer upper body strength, I put my hands above my head and pulled down.  I instantly felt the tingle and sharp pain from the base of my skull (where the Chiari headaches originate) into my shoulder, down my arm, and up my neck into my ear and cheeks. 

For the next seventy-two hours I had a full blown, for lack of a better word, Chiari-attack.  I was in debilitating pain.  Not only a headache, but weakness down my right arm into my hand, my shoulders felt like a boulder was sitting on them, and I felt I couldn't hold my head up straight.  Before my surgery, I referred to one of my symptoms as "Woody Arm", making an analogy to Toy Story when Woody's arm gets injured and he just drags it along as he is walking.  For about two full days, I had a very serious Woody Arm.  I had difficulty lifting my fork to eat, my cup to drink, and my markers to teach.  While I was driving, I needed to support my Woody Arm with my other arm or rest it on the steering wheel.  I forgot how horrible this pain was.  During these seventy-two hours, I went to work, came home, laid on the couch, barely ate, and cried a lot.  For the first time in over 19 months, I felt paralyzed, trapped in my own body again.  However, at this point...I just kept saying to myself and others, "No big deal, this is just a weird Chiari fluke."  -- Fluke is the right word, right?

Then, about a week ago, I was woken four times in the night from the most severe, sharp, shooting pain from the base of my skull into my right cheek and into what felt like my eye socket.  I was honestly worried.  It was a new pain, one I don't even remember having before my surgery.  I considered waking up my roommate or calling mom and dad to take me to the emergency room.  Again, I sat there and thought, "okay if I go, they will run the same tests, tell me nothing is wrong, blah..blah..blah.  And, I love my job.  I want to go to work tomorrow.  The kids will make me better.  My friends will help."

The pain continued though work.  I was barely present.  The right side of my face was completely numb.  I was constantly asking my coworkers if my face was droopy.  I felt like the water I was drinking was coming out of my mouth.  I couldn't keep my eyes open.  I couldn't focus, I couldn't react to things the way I normally do.  I wasn't finding my little friends' high pitch voices and silly antics as cute as I normally do. I hate to say I felt paralyzed, but I did.  I needed to make a call.

I HATE THE PHONE.  The fact that with no prompting, no suggestion, and no demands from mom or anyone else, I picked up the phone and called my doctor.  I cried hard when the nurse got on the phone and explained the pain.  She said it was absolutely something to worry about.  She warned me that a Chiari can reform even after a surgery.  She suggested coming to Capital Health and getting an MRI sooner than later. 

After spending a combined two days, three hours on hold, four dropped calls, and three missed calls, I got an authorization from my new insurance company and an appointment at Capital Health. 

This morning at 7am I went in for a MRI of my brain.  They took me out after awhile and hooked me up to a monitor so they could do a Cine Blood Flow study. 

This is where we stand.  Waiting...

Back before my surgery, I joined a lot of Chairi social media groups, to remind myself that it was normal to get the surgery, it was normal to feel the pain, it was normal to be frustrated.  Man am I glad I didn't get out of any of them.  Last night, I sat and read many fellow Zipper-head's posts about their pain and similar symptoms.  It helped to know that I am not alone or crazy in my descriptions of my symptoms. 
So many people have said to me in the last few days, "Hope everything comes out okay in your tests."  How terrible is it that I am sitting here, anxiously awaiting a call to tell me something in fact IS wrong.  I need an explanation.  Why do I suddenly feel like I did 19 months ago?  Why do I suddenly need to think before I jump a wave?  Why do I need to think before I close a window?  Why do I need to hold in a sneeze?  Why is all this pain back?

I fear the phone call that says, "everything looks great."  Because if that is the case, then what now?

Alright, that's enough complaining.  I'm sorry!  It has been a very confusing and frustrating few weeks.

Prayers and a lot of hope for curable answers...

1 year and 6 months? Holy Cow (heart!)

I know everyone says it and it is so cliché, but time freakin' flies.  How in the world has it been a year and a half since my Chiari surgery?  How in the world has it been over two months since I last blogged?  How in the world has it been almost six months since I moved into my house?  How in the world is it already the end of August?  How in the world does school start in two weeks? How in the world is it that the Phillies stink so bad?  How in the world is it that I am still not Hunter Pence's girlfriend?

Okay, the last one is understandable, we are on separate coasts and different time zones. 

If you can't sense from my tone, life is a little, okay a lot, better than it was since my last post.  Anyone that has talked to me in the last two months has heard me say, "It is amazing what Lexapro and a roommate can do!" 

It is so sad to me that people are afraid to admit to needing some kind of help.  As the truths of Robin Williams' death come out, it just hits me so hard.  As someone who vocalizes all my fears, emotions, feelings, and ALWAYS wears my heart on my sleeve, I can not imagine feeling THAT alone.  I know it is an illness, I know he was sick.  But, in the same breath, I know how great it feels to vent, to realize you are not alone.  Any time I mention taking Lexapro, most people respond with, "oh yeah my mom is on it",  "oh yeah my friend takes that", "oh yeah I am on it", "oh yeah my dog takes it"...

I believe one of my biggest flaws is my constant need to be open and honest.  Some would say that sometimes, I communicate my feelings too much, all emotions included.  However, I thank God every day that I have the confidence to be open about how I am feeling in any context. 

I joke all the time that I am the happiest, nicest, and funniest person I know, and I believe it to be true.  That being said, it doesn't mean I don't have a bad day, week, or month.  As I wrote about last post, I was in a weird place in my life and not feeling myself.  I HATED it.  I didn't like being by myself, felt like my friends were far away, worried about my sister, and thought I met the one that got away.  But, don't they say you need rainy days to appreciate the sunny ones? Or something like that... I never really was good with phrases. 

Life is good right now.  I have a roommate.  I have had so much fun at my MANY weddings.  I have loved going to my bachelorette parties.  I have met new baby cousins.  I have enjoyed my beach days with friends and family.  I have hung out with some old friends.  I have met many new ones.  I have spent nights out doing new things.  My cousins are coming in from Michigan and Florida.  Steelers are starting, Penguins soon.  My birthday is coming up.  Pumpkin beer is on the shelves...

Adding to that list, the ocean has been beyond perfect this summer.  Clear, warm, dare I say Caribbean like? The ocean is one of my favorite places in the world.  It is a rare beach day that I don't go in.  As a kid my cousins and I used to play "Seal or Dolphin", where we would go over the wave if we yelled "seal" and under if we yell "dolphin".  As almost 27, it is still one of my favorite games. 

Except, now, with Chiari, I find that I often trigger a headache when I am being a seal.  The pressure of the water can sometimes knock my neck at a certain angle that affects my Chiari.  I know the instant it happens.  Twice this summer it has happened hard enough that I have been down for the count for a day or two.  You would think I would learn the lesson, stop being a seal, always go for dolphin.  Easier said than done.  I have come to terms with the fact that I won't be riding roller coasters anymore (which is something I like to do), but no way will I give up my seal-life in the ocean.  Suck it Chiari.

Speaking of Chiari, I also want to comment on the ALS ice bucket challenge.  For a few weeks I thought I was going to sneak by without being nominated.  Don't get me wrong, I am all for donating and am in positive disbelief at how beneficial this viral act has gone.  It is truly amazing. 

Two days ago my friend nominated me.  I panicked.  A bucket of water falling onto my head.  It sounds painful.  As someone that has Chiari, as someone that has issues with anything that "whiplashes" my neck, I don't feel I can participate for fear of triggering a headache.  I know, I know, sounds wimpy, but I honestly don't think I want to risk it.  I would love to donate to ALS, that is not my point.  My point is, Chiari still affects my life.  Three years ago I would have been the first to think this challenge was hysterical and would be so fun.  Now, I am scared to hurt myself.  What am I, 90?

To this day I would say with 100% certainty that my surgery was the best thing that ever happened to me.  It has given me my life back and the ability to worry about things that a normal 26-year-old should.  It has given me the chance to appreciate all the emotions that I feel now that I couldn't feel behind the headaches and nerve pain.  Yes, I still have rare pain with a passing headache, slight tingling, and occasionally word mix-up, but like I have always said, "everyone has their shit". 

Just because I think it is a perfect wrap up for this post, I am going to end it with a Ralph Waldo Emerson quote that I recently found and feel is so me...

Be Silly. Be Honest. Be Kind. 

Out of My Mind

I have spent the last two months literally feeling out of my mind and out of my body. 

There have been so many changes in my life and daily routine, that I just feel like I am standing on the outside watching someone else live my life.

I am living by myself in a house that I bought.  It is such a bittersweet thing for me.  If anything I have learned that I, in fact, don't do well alone.  I get inside my own head and have a lot of trouble getting myself back to some sanity.  I have kept myself very busy over the last few months.  I have agreed to do a lot of extra work things, spent time with old friends, happy hour with new, and agreeing to almost any plans that I am approached with. 

Don't get me wrong, I love being busy. But, I miss being able to just sit, watch TV and let my mind get lost in Jax Teller's eyes or in Chandler's humor. 

Half the time, I don't even know what I am thinking about.  Does that make sense?  Literally as I was typing that I started thinking about what a rhetorical question is and if what I just asked counts as one, looked up and thought where did I put my water, wait, did I switch my sheets, I want to take some Advil, ew I don't remember Leonard and Sheldon getting a cat, OH MY GOSH DID I PAY THAT PARKING TICKET? 

Seriously? Is this what happens to grown ups?  How do people have jobs they don't love? How do people have kids to take care, dinner to make and a house to clean all at the same time of these other thoughts?

I know my life isn't tough, and I hate to complain.  I am just in such a funk. 

I am one of the most confident, happiest, funniest people I know and yet I feel like my crazy mind has taken over everything I have ever been confident, happy, and funny about. 

I know buying the house was so huge and exciting, but then I question, should I have gone south now since I have nothing holding me back here?  I know living alone is good for everyone to do once in their life, but then I think who the heck is going to listen to my stories tonight!?  I know being confident in who you are is a key to finding someone, but why do I feel so lonely?  I know I have a full time job next year, but what am I teaching? My sister is doing okay, but why do I always feel so angry?  The Phillies, why do they suck so bad?

I know this all sounds like a negative post, which is not my favorite thing to do but there is an optimistic angle.  Promise.  The bright side of all these uneasy feelings is that I can complain about these things.  It is funny.  For the last twenty four hours I have had a horrible headache.  It has caused me to feel very weak and tired.  But, it isn't a Chiari headache.  Just a sinus or allergy headache over my eyes.  No big deal, except it does hurt...

I just sat here and wrote an entire blog about other things than my headache.  That is how I know my surgery was still the best decision I made (or that was made for me). 

Yes, I do still get headaches, occasionally tingling, and often drop things out of my right hand.  From what I read and hear, it is all still very normal.  I am not worried, it does not affect my day to day life by any means, and I am sitting here capable of rambling complaints like the average twenty six year old! 

As I have always said, Life is Good.  I have family that supports me even through these crazy, not so happy times.  I have great friends and coworkers that have become friends.  I have a shore house to escape to every weekend.  I have a roommate moving in soon.  I have four weddings and a few bachelorette parties coming up in the next few months with some great friends.  My cousin is coming up a few times this summer to visit from North Carolina.  I have a job I look forward to going to every day.  I made out with professional hockey player and I don't care who knows it! :)

I know I need to get out of my own head, bring the confidence, happiness, and humor back into who I am.  I can't get lost in these looney thoughts that I have very little control over. 

I went through brain surgery, with a confident smile and laughed much of the time.  I know I can get through this little road block in life with the same confident smile and laugh all of the time, just need to put it all in perspective sometimes. 

There is a guy I follow on Instagram named Tyler Knott Gregson and he posts thoughts in fancy typewriter font.  I swear sometimes he is just in my brain, taking all the rambled thoughts and putting them on paper in a rhythmic, sense-making, poetic phrase.  This one, being one of my favorites, seems so simple and however if I were to phrase it, it would sound like AHHHHHHH. 

"Sometimes, you just cannot sigh deep enough." 

He just gets me! :)

13 Months: From Brain Surgery to Homeowner

Okay, for starters, 13 months?  How?  Where did the time go?  I am sitting here, full of anxiety, nerves, fear, happiness, excitement, and in all honesty, shock.

13 months ago today, I too, was feeling all those feelings.  Anxiety, nerves, fear about the surgery I would undergo in just a few short sleepless hours.  Happiness and excitement for the fact that I may, in just a few months, be able to start living the life of a normal 26 year old girl.  Shock that I was going to have brain surgery, they were going to shave a part of my head, that I would have a cow heart permanently patched to my skull, and that this was all happening to me.

Tonight, 13 months later, I am again sitting here full of emotion.  Anxiety, nerves, fear about the idea that I will be signing my life (and bank account) away in just a few short sleepless hours.  Happiness and excitement for the fact that I am living the normal life of a 26 year old girl by buying my very first home.  Shock, that in a little over a year after having brain surgery, having part of my head shaved, a cow heart patched to my skull, that I am able to accomplish this HUGE milestone in my life.

Never.  Never in the 12 months previous to having the offer accepted on the house would I have believed anyone that said I would be able to do this.  Seriously.  I could barely go to work each day, let alone make my bed in the morning.  I had surgery, I was out of work for two months.  I was unsure of a job scenario for this past year.  I felt I couldn't leave because I was so emotionally attached to my sister's addiction.  I had dinner on the table every night, a DVR in my room, a cleaning lady and a fancy new house.  Let's be honest, I was living comfortably. 

However, the countless times I said "I am so ready to get out", "I need to move out", "How long until I can realistically do this?" are now a reality.  I am ready to get out.  I am moving out.  Realistically, I can do this. 

It is so funny to me how my mind and body work.  Before my surgery, yes I was an emotional wreck.  I felt every emotion in the book and I feel like I probably even made up a few.  However, I never second guessed my decision.  I was confident in the fact it was the right thing for me, that I would come out of it 100% better, and I would never regret having the surgery.  I was positive, sure, and always hopeful. 

Brain surgery. No big deal. I was okay with it. I could do it. 

Homeownership.  Slightly different story.  I am an overwhelmed maniac.  Don't get me wrong.  I am so, so excited.  I can't wait to be on my own, have my own space, and be a grown up.  But, there is so much fear and anxiety attached to this decision.  Is this the right time?  Can I live by myself?  Is this the right location? (With these weather patterns, I am second guessing this more and more ... South is looking REAL good these days!) Do I want to paint this room a color?  Will I have a roommate?  Can I afford to live on a tight budget?  Do I bother getting extra sports channels to watch the sucky Phillies this year? 

I am trying to practice what I preached throughout the surgery and recovery.  Stop asking what if.  Deal with what is at hand.  And, I know I will.  I am just finding so many ways to compare these two HUGE life changing scenarios that I have dealt with in the last year.  I am literally sitting here shaking my head at the fact that I was more okay with my surgery than I am with signing these papers tomorrow. 

Or is it just like what they say about child birth and its been long enough since the surgery that I am forgetting all that fear and anxiety I had leading up to it?

Alright, enough.  There are so many things I am confident with in this house, that I am now changing my mind.  From here on out, all positives.  I can't wait to have that key in my hand tomorrow.  I can't wait to see the floors once they are laid.  I can't wait to paint my room.  I can't wait to sleep there for the first night.  I can't wait to "cook" my first meal, or have someone do it for me. ;)  I can't wait to see where I am going to put all my giraffe things.  I can't wait to prove to myself that this is exactly what I should be doing at this point in my life. 

So, this was not a very Chiari-based post, but more so an outlet to organize my chaotic thoughts. 

Isn't it so cool that 13 months later my brain does hurt, BUT that its from thinking about paint colors and giraffe placement? AH! Life is Good.  :)

One Freaking Year Anniversary and Some Other Good Stuff!

WHAT!? ALMOST ONE YEAR!? HOW?!

I literally can not stop asking myself (and everyone around me) how an entire year has passed since my surgery.

Like, for real.

Okay, here are my thoughts.  One year, 12 months, 52 weeks, 365 days...all those hours and minutes have come and gone since what may have been the scariest day of my life. Not only have they come and gone but they have been the most exciting, exhausting, silly, mentally draining, hilarious, scary, intimidating, rewarding, eye opening, nerve wrecking, happy, sad, funny, embarrassing, and amazing year of my life.  My vocabulary isn't very extensive, so therefore I am having difficulty coming up with more adjectives, but you get the gist. 

Rather than reflect on each adjective, I am going to group them.

Let's get the negatives out of the way: I had a few rough weeks in the beginning of my recovery, as expected.  It took me awhile to feel like myself. Once I was feeling better, I still struggled with nerve pain for a long while (still happens occasionally).  My head itches lots around the incision.  My baby hairs (which were shaven) took forever to grow in and always look silly in a high pony or bun. My sister still battles addiction.  Hunter Pence is still in San Fran.  None of my doctors became my boyfriends.  --- Tough life, huh?

Let's switch gears to all the fun stuff. 

All positives: As I mention in each and every post, I feel incredible, great, awesome, healthy, wonderful... (again with the adjective thing).  Having surgery was the best decision I have ever made!  Okay wait side note: yeah right, it was not really my decision, but I still give myself credit! ;) 

After living a life in discomfort, worry, and utter pain, I am living a normal life.  Normal is the perfect adjective for where I am in life right now.  I am 26 years old.  I wake up in the morning, have my coffee, pack and lunch and go to a job that I absolutely love (okay, lucky should be added there).  I come home, go for a run, do some Netflixing, shower comfortably, and go to bed at a normal time.  IT'S THE BEST!

A few more positives from the past year:  My cousin in the Marines visited me in the hospital, and made my heart rate sky rocket.  I got more giraffes for my collection than I know what to do with.  I was visited my family and friends and showered with undeserved gifts and treats.  I got to go back to work at a job that I loved, and start a new one that I love just as much.  I got hooked on Homeland, Shameless, White Collar and Sons of Anarchy which made my Netflix bill more than worthwhile.  I went to Nashville and saw many, many cute southern boys. I went to eight weddings in one summer.  I fed a giraffe!  Most importantly, the newest and most exciting news from this past year (tough to beat the giraffe feeding, I admit)...

I just signed contracts for my very first house!  AH!!!

If you had told me last year, on February 24th, 2013 that on February 24th, 2014 I would be signing contracts for my very first house, I absolutely, positively, 100% would have laughed in your face.  I couldn't even hold a pencil in my hand, how would I be able to sign all those papers? Today, I was able to sign paper, after paper, after paper.  I didn't even drop the pen once!  

I am speechless.  Or well, more like typeless.  As I am sitting here typing this I can not believe it myself. 

I have been planning this "1 year Brainiversiary" (as I like to call it) blog for the last month.  I was going to write a few quotes that inspired me this year (I still may on a different post).  I was going to post a picture of my scar.  I was going to tell you my latest updates, blah blah blah. However, today happened.  I got home a bit ago from signing my contracts and putting down a deposit.  In just one short month, I will be a home owner.  YIKES!

It's funny.  One year ago today, I was laying down, watching TV, with an ice pack on, freaking out that in just four days, I would be undergoing brain surgery.  One of the scariest days of my life. 

Today, I went to an office, held a pen, and signed my name a bajillion times and handed over a big check.  Again, one of the scariest days of my life.  A year ago, I would have never hoped that a year later I would still be feeling so scared.  Yet, here I am, the happiest scared person ever! 

So, excited, anxious, nervous rant over ... I gave myself what I think may be the coolest One Year Brainiversiary gift ever.  I am movin on! AH :)

I'm sure I will do another fun blog sometime closer to Friday, but I needed to let out some of my fears, excitement, and overwhelming craziness!  YAY!!!

Also, holy adjectives in this post, huh? ;)

Challenge Accepted

I am sitting here.  Unsure.  Unsure how to start this blog.  Unsure of why I chose to write one in this moment.  Unsure of how honest to be.  Unsure of myself.

Amy Has a Headache was a blog I decided to write to put a positive spin on Chiari, the before, after and all between.  In my opinion, I have done a good job of doing that.  Chiari can suck it.  It hurt, I fixed it.  It caused me to live limitedly, I am now living free and easy.  It was a major obstacle in my life, I overcame it. 

However, I am sitting here finding myself wanting to ,once again, vent about another disease affecting my life.  It's not my disease and yet it affects my health, my family's health daily. 

Addiction.  I have said it before and I will say it forevermore.  I would never wish addiction, of any sort, on anyone. 

In my last post I mentioned the colorful chain I was hoping for in 2014.  This past weekend, unfortunately, added two black links.  My sister continues to struggle with her battle and as are we.  She believes we are naïve, that we don't see the things she does ... right in front of our eyes. 

Addicts are full of fear.  Actually, as I am sitting here typing that... I think I mean I fear addicts.  I fear what she is capable of.  I fear of what she thinks.  I fear what she feels.  I fear her actions. I fear it will come to her being back on the streets.  I fear she will end up in jail.  I fear she will not be able around in a few months.  I fear she will never get a chance to be my maid of honor.  I fear I will never want her to be around my future children.  I fear there will be a time we don't find her, or worse...we will, too late.

I have been dwelling on these thoughts the past 24 hours.  How do I make myself at peace with this?  How do I help my family get through this?  How do I continue living the way I love to, with a heart-felt smile on my face?  How do I support her with the amount of anger and resentment I have towards her?  How do I help someone that isn't willing to be helped?

Then, I saw... my girl, Julianne Hough, posted something on social media today that said:

"Make today more beautiful by uplifting a stranger's day."

Exactly.  How many times have I said, "everyone has their shit"?  Everyone is going through something.  Some, dealing with exactly what I am dealing with.  Some, dealing with deaths or illness in a family.  Some, dealing with divorce or heart break.  Some, problems at work.  Some, dropped their coffee this morning.  Some, running late.  Some, just having a bad day.  

I don't know what the lady sitting next to me at church is dealing with.  I don't know what the Dunkin Donuts drive thru attendant has going on.  I don't know why that person on the road cut me off or why they are in a rush.  I don't know how the guy pumping my gas is feeling today.  I don't know, but...

After I saw the quote I found myself thinking back to the MANY things that strangers have done to make me smile, when they too, had no idea what I was going through.  For starters: someone sharing a smile, someone complimenting my new boots, someone letting me in front of them as I try to merge, someone in line allowing me to go first, someone in line before me paying for my coffee, someone in the craft store handing me something they made, when wearing a jersey - someone saying "Go Steelers", someone telling me I look like a celebrity (Penny from Big Bang among one of my favorites!).  How simple are these things? 

Why shouldn't I take the challenge to make a stranger's day better?  Didn't I preach that during my surgery?  Didn't I say a bajillion times that the random acts not only from people I know, but even more so those random acts from strangers are what kept my smile through it all? 

Why aren't I practicing it more?  How can I practice it more? 

I don't have the perfect answer yet.  But, for now, I will continue to flash my smile at a passer by.  I will continue to use kind words. I will continue to compliment.  I will continue to share my positive stories.  I will continue to make silly comments.  I will continue to laugh out loud.  That is where I will start. 

How will you?