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Friday, April 22, 2011

Crown Of Love

Last fall I read a great book called Elizabeth's Women that analyzed the women in the Virgin Queen's life and how they influenced her. It was a fascinating read and kept with my tendency to be very interested in Britain's royal history.

While not of documentary accuracy, I also loved The Tudors and every week I would find myself googling different people to learn more about them. A name would be mentioned and off I went, following webpage to webpage learning about the history of a country I have never even been to.

When The King's Speech came out, I knew I would see it. Another story about royalty and involving people still alive was just what I was in the mood for and I came out of the theatre wanting to know more more more.

The Young Victoria was another movie I just loved and reading about her reign was like candy for me. Seeing her and Prince Albert in the beginning of their relationship on the big screen was like getting to see past the traditions and stuffiness, if you will. I know it was just a movie, but I loved it.

And that brings us to The Royal Wedding. I am so excited to see it! And it's not because of their celebrity, but because they are a part of history and tradition. Even though the monarchy is completely different than it was when King Henry VIII ruled, Prince William is still going to be in a line that comes from him (not by blood, but by reign) and I think it's really cool to see (albeit on TV) a moment in history.

And yes, it's a "Fairy Tale". A girl just like the rest of us (although much more wealthy than me!) is marrying a prince. I am not embarrassed to say that I want to see it and want to know what Catherine Middleton is going to wear. I want to see them walk into the church. I want to see Victoria Beckham in the audience! (Okay, so that part is a bit of celebrity fascination.)

So haters can keep hating, but I am going to be waking up early on the 29th to watch the royal wedding because I love tradition.

XO,
SVR

+Title from The Arcade Fire

Thursday, April 14, 2011

The Fear

First of all, yes, I know I've been out of the hospital for almost two months now, but you know what? It was insanity and I'd like to document some more of it:

About  80% of time spent in a hospital is boring. There is dozing, and visitors, and a lot a lot a lot of TV. There's just not much to do there and for much of the time, you don't feel like doing anything.  I have already told you about the severe lack of sleep that goes on and when I was awake, which was much of the day and night, I was watching TV.

But it is the other 20% that I want to carefully remember now. The other 20% is awful and scary and oftentimes made me want to cry. It started when I was in the ER waiting to be diagnosed. I had left work because my bad stomachache had turned into sharp pains and when I called my mom crying, she told me to head to the hospital. It was scary, though! I had never been to the hospital for myself (except for a cut that didn't even require stitches when I was like 10) and I just didn't know what to expect. I remember the Dr. telling me that it could be a few things: an ectopic pregnancy (which made me laugh), an ovarian cyst, or possibly appendicitis. For some reason, the thought of an ovarian cyst scared me more than the others, but after having a CT scan and blood work done, he came back to tell me it was in fact appendicitis.

Things moved pretty quickly after that. I used the last bit of juice in my cell phone to text someone at work, text my sister, and then text and call my mom. I've never so much as had stitches let alone surgery! And by then it hurt A LOT. I had had to drink a ton of fluid for my CT scan and that, combined with my nerves, resulted in me using the bathroom about 483290 times. And you know what hurts when your appendix is exploding/has exploded? Going to the bathroom...sitting on the toilet. Oh My God...I thought I was going to have to have the surgery right then and there because it hurt so much to move. I don't really remember the timing (the morphine was warm, though), but all of a sudden I was in some pre-Op area with people all around me having me sign things and having me take all of my undergarments off and covering my feet and hair up. Then they gave me "oxygen" and the next thing I remember is waking up in a hospital room. I have no idea how long the surgery took. I have no idea how long it took for me to wake up. These are very weird lack of memories to have. I do know that they attempted to remove my appendix laparoscopically, but it turned out to be a mess in there and they had to open me up. (Side note: wow, don't do a google image search for that.)

Most of my time after waking up was spent sleeping. (I think.) I do remember at one point wondering how people with really bad medical cases or who are in a coma after an accident pull through. I didn't want to move, but at the same time all I wanted was to be out of that bed. I was too tired to speak and even on my birthday, the blue Tiffany box my mom held in front of me did nothing. It was not a fun few days. It's also scary to have the oxygen thing around your nose. It kept making me wonder if I needed it and then when they did finally take it off, I was worried I'd have some lack of oxygen problem.

The scariest and most cliche moment in the hospital, though, was my MRI. This was before they had diagnosed my partially collapsed lung and I was still in some abdominal pain. Having to be put into a small tube is just as scary as it sounds and as claustrophobic as they make it in on TV. I had to put my arms above my head, which hurt a lot, and then they slid me in there. From that moment on I did not open my eyes once. I relied on my imagination for the next however many minutes it took. The first thing I thought of was underwater (probably due to the whooshing sound) and I just went with it. I imagined myself swimming, and seeing dolphins, and loving the blue of the water. I focused all of my energy on not thinking about the tube I was in. And let me just say that when the technician says, "Okay, hold your breath....for 30 seconds this time" to someone who had been getting winded walking to the bathroom, it's kind of a tough request. I am shocked all of my images did not come out blurred because I didn't hold my breath the entire time once.

I made it, though. (Obviously.) Maybe next time I'll tell you about the cool procedure I had done to get the fluid off my lungs!

XO,
SVR

+Title from Travis