27 December 2011

I am grateful for 2011

What happened in 2011. Let me tell you.

January!
I had torn my ACL in November of 2010, and finally got around to having knee surgery in January. The initial surgery date was 08 Jan. I got everything all set up, my mom and my brother and Amanda (my best friend since 2nd grade!) were all waiting for me! As they got me into pre-op, I began feeling incredibly anxious. Not unusual, I don't give up control easily, and to give up my control to even breath, scary! So I informed the nurse that I would need something for anxiety. Ativan, Valium, Versed, Haldol. I wasn't picky. Something to calm me down. My anesthesiologist, who has to order the meds, was in surgery so we had to wait. In the meantime, the nurses would be proactive and start the IV and hook up some Lactated Ringer (normal electrolytes that are in the body) The second the LR started dripping in, I couldn't breath. I was tripoding, my SATs were dropping, my anxiety climbing, and the nurses attributed it to my anxiety.
"This is different" I told them. 
"You're fine" They replied, brushing my concern off. 
The anesthesiologist hurried to my bed side when I couldn't improve. He questioned my medical history, took my vital signs and finally told me "You aren't having surgery today."
"What?! WHY?" I was mad, scared as I was, I wanted this done. 
"If I put you under, with the problems you're already having, you will end up in the ICU with aspirated pneumonia."

Angrily, I went home. I was already off crutches. I'd been working with the broken knee. I was functioning fine. Was this a sign that it wasn't worth the surgery? I had been nervous enough. And then I had this problem?
Research (with the help of Kristen, my friend and partner's girlfriend) told me that the reaction I had to the LR, should only ever happen to 80's + people with severe renal problems. I am 22. With asthma. 
I don't know why I had a reaction that I shouldn't have had. but I did. And surgery was cancelled. 10 days later, I was rescheduled with the condition that the surgery be performed in a hospital (maybe the operating room being accessed through a back alley way should have been my first indication that the first place wasn't the right place. :-P) and regular saline be given instead of OR. Also, easy access to an ICU.
I went into surgery terrified. But after a few prayers, a blessing and a lot of support, I survived. I actually went into the Operating room calm. The only sign of weakness was when I asked the OR aide to hold my hand while they put me under. 

It took me 7 days to transition from crutches to a cane. and 3 more to hobble relatively well solo. 

The following 2 months are a blur of 3 a day Physical Therapy. pain medication and knitting. What an adventure that was! But, I was healing quickly! In fact, my surgeon expressed deep concern when I told him that I had a timeline. I had to be back to work in 12 weeks. 3 months. 3 months to go from broken to whole. Or whatever level of whole I could obtain again. 
"Dibe, I would give you 8 weeks before you could get back to a desk job. But YOUR job? ... I don't want to give you false hope. I don't think it can be done." He told me. 
I knew different. Not because I had faith in my super-human healing, but because I HAD to. My mom had always proven to me, necessity can make things happen. Things that normally wouldn't otherwise. I trusted that, I'd seen it work time and time again. I HAD to be back, and so, if I worked hard enough, it would. 

I left PT crying most days, it hurt. I was discouraged. I didn't feel strong enough. 
I left PT most days with my physical therapist wondering how I was progressing to the point I was. 

"Alright, so the plan is for your first session, Dibe, is to see where you're at. Don't get discouraged, but we don't expect you to be able to complete any of these tasks yet."
I nodded. Wrong thing to say to a perfectionist. Anything I couldn't accomplish, I would take personally.
3 reps of 20 stretches. Check 
Hamstring stretching (scooting on an office chair with wheels across the floor about a hundred times!) Check
Passive motion to 90 degrees. Check. To 100 degrees? ... check "Dibe, your knee is able to bend at 120 degrees... That shouldn't be possible yet"
I met his challenge.  "Dibe, I want to try something. I want you on the bike. Slowly, with no resistance. I just want to see if you can make a full rotation." 
I did. And when his back was turned, added resistance.
Success! 

JAN 25: First step without crutches
Jan 28 ish : walking sans cane! FREEEDOM!!!!! (I really tried to get my surgeon to order a perscription for a  cane with a hidden sword. When he said no, I tried to convince Mike to get a cane so we could duel. He said yes. You decide who is cooler!)


(FEB 10: Gladys, my trusty - not so reliable - 1994 Mercury Sable went to the big race track in the sky. A moment of silence, if you will.) 

Feb 16: Rode my bike for the first time since surgery! Made it to the end of the block and had to turn around. 

(March 03: I got to meet Elder Melchin of the 70. Cool experience! My ride kind of forgot about me. And while I sat outside trying to figure out what to do (could my knee handle a 13 mile walk home? Prolly not.) Elder Melchin and President Williams traversed outside and sat with my until a ride could come and get me. Epic.)


Finally, my 6 week post-op appointment.
"Aw, my little dancer!" (blasted dance off. Unless you're a Jet or a Shark, they'll get you everytime) He inspected the knee. Pulled, pushed. bended. Had me shake, rattle and roll. Finally, in a huff he stomped out of the room. Only to return bewildered. 
"When was your surgery?" He demanded. 
"Jan 18th" 
"No it wasn't."
"Yes sir. I was there. Incidentally, so were you." 
"Can't be." He responded. "You look like you're at 12 weeks, with how healed you are. Not 6 weeks."
I grinned. "Does this mean I can go back to work?" I asked. 
"I want you to take another 2 weeks of physical therapy. If you can get Brian's approval, you already have mine. Here's a note for work. and for Brian." 
I smiled and thanked him
"I don't know how you did it, Dibe. But I've never seen anyone recover like you have. If I could bottle that, I'd be rich."
(If he bottled it, the level of bad luck could be a weapon of mass destruction. But who asked me :-P)

Brian, also astonished, wanted another 2 weeks of maintenance therapy for the knee. And So it was. at 8 weeks, a full 4 weeks early, I passed the lift test and returned to work! 
May 18th: Took and passed the AMR lift test!!
May 23rd: Returned to work!!


May 24th: second day of the tour. Easily one of the most difficult days. Had to call a patient. 0722. The time she died. That was tough. I've seen people die. But this one hit me hard, 
March 27: learned God loved me. Best. Feeling. Ever. Thanks be to my home teacher for that, for honoring His Priesthood, and listening to the spirit. And not letting me push him away. Rock star  Home Teacher!

April (7th) First impression to go on a mission. Yipes. Really? Has the Spirit met me? I don't teach. I don't know how to teach. I don't trust myself to teach... Must have been an errant thought, 
 April (25th) Talked to Bishop about these endless "errant thoughts" of a mission.

May 1: Osama bin Laden. Deader than doornails. (What on earth does that phrase mean? Why doornails? Are they more dead than other dead things?)

May 4th I wrote in my journal: "Don't you quit. Don't you quit. There are blessings ahead." Thanks Elder Holland. Sometimes I need a reminder! 

May 28th: Finished the Bolder Boulder 1:54:3584 My goal was 2 hours. 6 minutes faster than my goal!

June 15th: We were asked in our Institute class to write down what he wanted on our head stones when we died. This is what I'd decided at the time: "Dibe Hall; missionary, friend, servant. Daughter of God; "Just passing through"
I'm weird sometimes

June was a tough month in the ward. family deaths of close friends. Stress. That kind of thing
June 8: Finally admitted to myself that I needed to go on a mission
June: Alex's birthday!!!!

July 8th: a gal I used to work with, good friend from the theatre, Cassandra, died. alcohol poisoning. that hurt. 

Called to teach in relief society. Poor girls. 

July 9th: Transported a patient with Tuberculosis. Got exposed. Yipee! After several frantic texts and phone calls. The Elders showed up at my apartment to give me a blessing.  
2 positive readings and 2 negative readings later. I was clear. For now
July: Seth's birthday! 


August: went to a church dance. Didn't hate it too much. I was shocked. 
We may or may not have (and absolutely DID) begin a prank war against the Elders. There were many involved. We gather ideas from people from all walks of life. Including Sister Bishop. Take that Elders. High up's were involved!
August: Tess's birthday!! YAY!!!!
End of August: Creeped to Greeley to feed the brother unit, and Elder Allred. It was his birthday. 

September 5th: Mama, my paternal grandmother. Died. Fairly devestated. Tried to be strong and keep it together. Failed
I was at work when I found out. I was having fun at the Taste of Colorado. Then that email came. I knew I wasn't far from losing it. So I told my partner that we needed to talk to the supervisors so I could leave. They wouldn't let me. I can't tell you how utterly demoralizing and devestating that was. My own superiors in a company equipped to deal with the worst of anyone else's emergency, refused to let me deal with mine. I was more angry than I can remember being. If you know me, you know I have varying degrees of anger. If I'm silent, I'll get over it soon. (if the situation requires a simple 'sorry' to smooth things over, I don't like to get angry. Not worth it.) If I'm yelling at you, be frightened. If I'm crying. Don't expect me to ever trust or respect you again. I hit level three in .03 seconds when they refused to let me go home

Two days later, I was back on shift, planning a trip for the funeral and feeling miserable. Toward the end of the first day, I suddenly went pale, cool, sweaty and dizzy. Turns out, I had a cyst explode on my ovary. That wasn't fun. At all. 
We went to Florida not long after for the funeral. Tough. Really tough. But it was great to be surrounded by family. I got to meet my Uncle Steve, who is quite a riot.
Also, the Denver temple was under construction, and had been since August, so I decided to do what I do best. Run from the problem, straight to the temple. So I ended up going to the Birmingham Alabama Temple. Amazing. It was a great experience. The temple president thought I was 16. 

October: 

Trip to You-Tah!! with two of my favorite girls, Becca and Lee! It was incredible! We got to sing with the Prophet of God!! saw so many great things, learned a lot of history! We got to go to the SLC temple! 

November: After some clerical errors and drama added with some confusion and a healthy dose of frustration, the Hall family is starting to be pieced together again! Temple work started! and in true show of Christlike love, my home teacher went out of his way to make sure my Dad and my grandpa's work got done. I truly am blessed!!

December: 
Mom's birthday! We love her!
Christmas: On duty. Lance and I rocked no sleep! 


Overall verdict for the year. Grateful. So many blessings to make the few rough patches that much more tolerable. 
20 things I'm grateful for:

1. A partner who is tolerant, compassionate and tough enough to deal with me! Easily one of my best friends, and one of the most decent guys I know (don't tell him that)

2. The Savior and His atoning Sacrifice for me. Being blessed to learn His love for ME. 

3: My family. No matter how dysfunctional, no matter how much we push each others' buttons, I love them. Very much. 

4. My friends. Before this year, I had a lot of aquiantences,  I had people I cared about, but I had only a few friends.Maybe more people counted me as a friend, but I didn't trust enough to count them as such. This year, I have friends. I haven't felt very lonely this year. I am blessed. 

5. Being an EMT. I get to interact with so many of God's children. People think that it's because I get to save lives. But really, every day, they're saving mine. I am the lucky one here. 

6. Prayer. Prayer changes things. 

7. the knowledge of forever. Truly. I would not have survived this year without the knowledge of the Plan of Salvation. Truly, the plan that leads to happiness.

8. My home teachers this year. Who have gone above and beyond the responsibilities of their calling to bless me, to support me and to show me that Heavenly Father loves me. For being examples of righteous men. For knowing me well enough to know when to push me, and when to just support me. Mostly though, for not letting me push them away, like I've done with everyone else. 

9. My Visiting teachers. For midnight phone calls. for random baked goods just because. For the love they show me that reminds me of Jesus and His love. 

10. For leaders who see me. Really see me. For better or for worse. and for not letting that influence whether or not they like me. 

11. For the Scriptures, which I am learning are able to be directly applied to me and my life, but also direct me on how to be a better follower of Christ. 

12 For the many blessings that I don't even recognize. And the countless ones that I do. 

13. The Priesthood and those who worthily wield it. For their love for the Savior and the sacred responsibility to bless others with it. 

14. For my bike: without which, getting to work would take me all day. 

15. The Simple things.

16. For hard times, I may not be grateful for them now, but I imagine they (the infamous they) will be right, when I'm through all this and looking back, I'll see the benefits.

17. For living next door to an ER. Since that happened, I have seemed to need it less. Hallelujah

18. Recertifying as an EMT. Come January, I still have a job!

19. Music, there are songs out there that say exactly what I didn't know how to communicate. 

20. For the Truths most worth knowing. (Nov 2011 CES fireside. look it up.)




25 December 2011

Glory to God in the highest

I


I sit here, struggling to put how my heart feels to words. To put how my heart feels into coherent thoughts. It's much harder than it sounds. 


Christmas. What IS Christmas? What has Christmas been to me? Is that different from how it is now?


I haven't paid much attention to the season, not really a grinch. I love Christmas time. I love the season of giving. I love the magical feeling of Christmas. I love the Spirit of Christ. But this Christmas season as passed me by, and as I watched it pass, I felt like if I could just try a little harder, I could actually catch up with it. To no avail. Then as I sat here realizing that it is Christmas Eve! And while it is widely accepted that Christ wasn't born in December, we choose this time to celebrate His birth. It hit me pretty hard, Christ was born! Jesus lived! 


an Angel appeared to the shepherds and did, in reality tell them, "Fear not: for behold, I bring you good tidings of great joy" ... and "Glory to God in the highest, and on earth peace, good will toward men."


I think of Mary, and wonder how she must of felt as she fed her baby. The Son of God. I think of her as she raised him. Did she feel inadequate? Did she feel overwhelmed? Did she know the miracles her son would perform? 


I wish I could adequately describe that Spirit associated with this holiday. The Savior of all mankind was born. And for what purpose was he born, but to die for us? But to give us a second birth. To see us again. He extends the mercy, so that through the eternal acts of Justice, we might still join Him again. HE meets the demands of Justice on our behalf, and for that reason, HE alone can provide us with mercy. On His terms, His generous terms. 


Tiding of Great Joy indeed. 


Today is Christmas. And the Spirit of Christ is strong. Glory be to God in the highest. 




"Too often we underestimate the power of a touch, a smile, a kind word, a listening ear, an honest compliment, or the smallest act of caring, all of which have the potential to turn a life around."

28 November 2011

Rest In Peace Sister Baer


I found out today that Sister Baer, the Matron to the Denver Colorado temple died yesterday in a car accident. Sad.. every time I went to the temple and Sister Baer would there, she'd put her arm around me and tell me how glad she was that I was there. If she had time, she'd sit with me, while I waited for things to get started. She always asked how I was doing, she always wanted to know if there was anything she or the President could do for me. 

She spoke at Boulders adult session of Stake Conference this year. I loved that she talked about a few young men who she make promise that they would go on a mission, and come see her before they did. 

Mortality suffered a loss, but the Other Side received a special woman yesterday. 

Thoughts and prayers would be appreciated for the Baer family and those within the Denver Colorado Temple boundaries. 

In the meantime, Sister Baer, God be with you til we meet again. 

The Littlest Angel

This was my favorite story as a kid. Now i'll share it with you. If you don't have a copy of this book, get one. You won't regret it.


Once upon a time -- oh many, many years ago as time is calculated by
 men -- but which was only Yesterday in the Celestial Calendar of Heaven --
there was, in Paradise, a most miserable, thoroughly unhappy, and utterly
dejected cherub who was known throughout Heaven as The Littlest Angel.
He was exactly four years, six months, five days, seven hours, and forty-two minutes of age
when he presented himself to the venerable Gate-Keeper and waited for admittance to the
Glorious Kingdom of God.
Standing defiantly, with his short brown legs wide apart, the Littlest Angel tried to pretend that
he wasn't at all impressed by such Unearthly Splendor, and that he wasn't at all afraid. But his
lower lip trembled, and a tear disgraced him by making a new furrow down his already tearstreaked face -- coming to a precipitous halt at the very tip end of his small freckled nose.
But that wasn't all. While the kindly Gate-Keeper was entering the name in his great Book, the
Littlest Angel, having left home as usual without a handkerchief, endeavored to hide the tell-tale
evident by snuffling. A most unangelic sound which so unnerved the good Gate-Keeper that he
did something he had never done before in all Eternity. He blotted the page!
From that moment on, the Heavenly Peace was never quite the same, and the Littlest Angel soon
became the despair of all the Heavenly Host. His shrill, ear-splitting whistle resounded at all
hours through the Golden Streets. It startled the Patriarch Prophets and disturbed their
meditations. Yes, and on top of that, he inevitably and vociferously sang off-key at the singing
practice of the Heavenly Choir, spoiling its ethereal effect.
And, being so small that it seemed to take him just twice as long as anyone else to get to nightly
prayers, the Littlest Angel always arrived late, and always knocked everyone's wings askew as
he darted into his place.
Although these flaws in behavior might have been overlooked, the general appearance of the
Littlest Angel was even more disreputable than his deportment. It was first whispered among the
Seraphim and Cherubim, and then said aloud among the Angels and Archangels, that he didn't
even look like an angel!
And they were all quite correct. He didn't. His halo was permanently tarnished where he held
onto it with one hot little chubby hand when he ran, and he was always running.
Furthermore, even when he stood very still, it never behaved as a halo should. It was always
slipping down over his right eye. Over his left eye. Or else, just for pure meanness, slipping off
the back of his head and rolling away down some Golden Street just so he'd have to chase after
it!
Yes, and it must be here recorded that his wings were neither useful nor ornamental. All Paradise
held its breath when the Littlest Angel perched himself like an unhappy fledgling sparrow on the
very edge of a gilded cloud and prepared to take off. He would teeter this way--and that way--
but, after much coaxing and a few false starts, he would shut both of his eyes, hold his freckled
nose, count up to three hundred and three, and then hurl himself slowly into space! However, owing to the regrettable fact that he always forgot to move his wings, the Littlest
Angel always fell head over halo!
It was also reported and never denied, that whenever he was nervous, which was most of the
time, he bit his wing-tips! Now, anyone can easily understand why the Littlest Angel would,
sooner or later, have to be disciplined.
And so, on an Eternal Day of an Eternal Month in the Year Eternal, he was directed to present
his small self before an Angel of the Peace. The Littlest Angel combed his hair, dusted his wings
and scrambled into an almost clean robe, and then, with a heavy heart, trudged his way to the
place of judgment. He tried to postpone the dreaded ordeal by loitering along the Street of the
Guardian Angels, pausing a few timeless moments to minutely pursue the long list of new
arrivals, although all Heaven knew he couldn't read a word. And he idled more than several
immortal moments to carefully examine a display of aureate harps, although everyone in the
Celestial City knew he couldn't tell a crotchet from a semiquaver. But at length and at last he
slowly approached a doorway which was surmounted by a pair of golden scales, signifying that
Heavenly Justice was dispensed within. To the Littlest Angel's great surprise, he heard a merry
voice, singing!
The Littlest Angel removed his halo and breathed upon it heavily, then polished it upon his robe,
a procedure which added nothing to that garment's already untidy appearance, and then tip-toed
in!
The Singer, who was known as the Understanding Angel, looked down at the small culprit, and
the Littlest Angel instantly tried to make himself invisible by the ingenious process of
withdrawing his head into the collar of his robe, very much like a snapping turtle.
At that, the Singer laughed, a jolly, heartwarming sound, and said, "Oh! So you're the one who's
been making Heaven so unheavenly! Come here, cherub, and tell me all about it!" The Littlest
Angel ventured a furtive look from beneath his robe.
First one eye. And then the other eye. Suddenly, almost before he knew it, he was perched on the
lap of the Understanding Angel, and was explaining how very difficult it was for a boy who
suddenly finds himself transformed into an angel. Yes, and no matter what the Archangels said,
he'd only swung once. Well, twice. Oh, all right, then, he'd swung three times on the Golden
Gates. But that was just for something to do!
That was the whole trouble. There wasn't anything for a small angel to do. And he was very
homesick. Oh, not that Paradise wasn't beautiful! But the Earth was beautiful too! Wasn't it
created by God, Himself? Why, there were trees to climb, and brooks to fish, and caves to play at
pirate chief, the swimming hole, and sun, and rain, and dark, and dawn, and thick brown dust, so
soft and warm beneath your feet!
The Understanding Angel smiled, and in his eyes was a long forgotten memory of another small
boy long ago. Then he asked the Littlest Angel what would make him most happy in Paradise.
The cherub thought for a moment, and whispered in his ear.
"There's a box. I left it under my bed back home. If only I could have that?"
The Understanding Angel nodded his head. "You shall have it," he promised. And fleet-winged
Heavenly messenger was instantly dispatched to bring the box to Paradise. And then, in all those timeless days that followed, everyone wondered at the great change in the
Littlest Angel, for, among all the cherubs in God's Kingdom, he was the most happy. His
conduct was above the slightest reproach. His appearance was all that the most fastidious could
wish for. And on excursions to Elysian Fields, it could be said, and truly said, that he flew like an
angel!
Then it came to pass that Jesus, the Son of God, was to be born of Mary, of Bethlehem, of Judea.
And as the glorious tidings spread through Paradise, all the angels rejoiced and their voices were
lifted to herald the Miracle of Miracles, the coming of the Christ Child.
The Angels and Archangels, the Seraphim and Cherubim, the Gate-Keeper, the Wingmaker, yes,
and even the Halosmith put aside their usual tasks to prepare their gifts for the Blessed Infant.
All but the Littlest Angel. He sat himself down on the topmost step of the Golden Stairs and
anxiously waited for inspiration.
What could he give that would be most acceptable to the Son of God? At one time, he dreamed
of composing a lyric hymn of adoration. But the Littlest Angel was woefully wanting in musical
talent.
Then he grew tremendously excited over writing a prayer! A prayer that would live forever in the
hearts of men, because it would be the first prayer ever to be heard by the Christ Child.
But the Littlest Angel was lamentably lacking in the literate skill. "What, oh what, could a small
angel give that would please the Holy Infant?"
The time of the Miracle was very close at hand when the Littlest Angel at last decided on his gift.
Then, on that Day of Days, he proudly brought it from its hiding place behind a cloud, and
humbly, with downcast eyes, placed it before the Throne of God. It was only a small, rough,
unsightly box, but inside were all those wonderful things that even a Child of God would
treasure!
A small, rough, unsightly box, lying among all those other glorious gifts from all the angels of
Paradise! Gifts of such rare and radiant splendor and breathless beauty that Heaven and all the
Universe were lighted by the mere reflection of their glory!
And when the Littlest Angel saw this, he suddenly knew that his gift to God's Child was
irreverent, and he devoutly wished he might reclaim his shabby gift. It was ugly. It was
worthless. If only he could hide it away from the sight of God before it was even noticed!
But it was too late! The Hand of God moved slowly over all that bright array of shining gifts,
then paused, then dropped, then came to rest on the lowly gift of the Littlest Angel!
The Littlest Angel trembled as the box was opened, and there, before the Eyes of God and all His
Heavenly Host, was what he offered to the Christ Child.
And what was his gift to the Blessed Infant? Well, there was a butterfly with golden wings,
captured one bright summer day on the high hills above Jerusalem, and a sky blue egg from a
bird's nest in the olive tree that stood to shade his mother's kitchen door. yes, and two white
stones, found on a muddy river bank, where he and his friends had played like small brown
beavers, and, at the bottom of the box, a limp, tooth-marked leather strap, once worn as a collar
by his mongrel dog, who had died as he had lived, in absolute love and infinite devotion. The Littlest Angel wept hot, bitter tears, for now he knew that instead of honoring the Son of
God, he had been most blasphemous.
Why had he ever thought the box was so wonderful?
Why had he dreamed that such utterly useless things would be loved by the Blessed Infant?
In frantic terror, he turned to run and hide from the Divine Wrath of the Heavenly Father, but he
stumbled and fell, and with a horrified wail and clatter of halo, rolled into a ball of consummate
misery to the very foot of the Heavenly Throne!
There was an ominous and dreadful silence in the Celestial City, a silence complete and
undisturbed save for the heartbroken sobbing of the Littlest Angel.
Then suddenly, the Voice of God, like Divine Music, rose and swelled through Paradise!
And the Voice of God spoke, saying, "Of all the gifts of all the angels, I find that this small box
pleases Me most. Its contents are of the Earth and of men, and My Son is born to be King of
both. These are the things My Son, too, will know and love and cherish and then, regretfully, will
leave behind Him when His task is done. I accept this gift in the Name of the Child, Jesus, born
of Mary this night in Bethlehem."
There was a breathless pause, and then the rough, unsightly box of the Littlest Angel began to
glow with a bright, unearthly light, then the light became a lustrous flame, and the flame became
a radiant brilliance that blinded the eyes of all the angels!
None but the Littlest Angel saw it rise from its place before the Throne of God. And he, and only
he, watched it arch the firmament to stand and shed its clear, white, beckoning light over a Stable
where a Child was Born.
There it shone on that Night of Miracles, and its light
was
reflected down the centuries deep in the heart of all
mankind.
Yet, earthly eyes, blinded, too, by its splendor, could
never
know that the lowly gift of the Littlest Angel was
what all
men would call forever "The Shining Star of
Bethlehem!"

Dibe learns to sew!!

This is the pattern... Intimidating?? yeah..

First sewing project a scrub top??? It said easy!!

This is the face of someone who just spent 3 hours pinning, cutting and organizing, all to find out that my sewing machine as a power cord that was MIA. Did I mention that I had to have this scrub top sewed by the next morning, or I would no longer have a job at the hospital? Yeah. It was 8pm...

Supportive partner, I'm cutting, and blasting some Glee. At the fire station. baha!

That is a lot of teal fabric (technically is Carribbean or something of that nature)

This pattern is scary. In case you didn't know

Pinned and ready to be cut!


Past midnight. Getting tired and slap happy

All cut out! And facebooking. 

The project got finished, i was given an extension (sewing by hand is lame. I have so much more respect for my ancestor folk who sewed by hand.) I made it way too big, and the right sleeve is sewn inside out. But whatever, it's a scrub top! 

Next sewing installment is probably a long way out. I prefer knitting. haha

26 November 2011

Gratitude

There are so many things I am grateful for. But most right now, I'm grateful for a home teacher that loves me, and honors his Priesthood. I'm grateful for the friends that lift me, and carry me.
I am so grateful for gratitude!

16 November 2011

Cannery assignment

Today I went to fulfill a cannery assignment from my ward, and had a pretty good time! We canned jams (Holy messy, batman!!!) Some highlights:

"We have a problem" Says the boss man, staring at me. 
"I didn't do it!" I raise my hands int he air like he's going to taze me. 
He looks over at boss lady "We need someone of average height here.... She's too short." 

ouch...

"So... How do you feel about eternal marraige?"
"Yeah... uh.. Elder Anderson is it? Hi! My name is Dibe, nice to meet you..." 

"Elder Anderson, you need to get to work... Leave the poor girl alone."


"I'm sorry girl, you can't work here either. You'll get sucked into the machine. And we have no oompa loompas to rescue you."


bahahaha

Laus Deo

Everyone has good days and bad days. Everyone experiences tragic heart break and overwhelming joy.

A bad day is when you meet a man who is talking to you, who simply woke up a few days ago, feeling not great. Seemingly a simple cold. By a fluke, one of the nurses just happened to direct the man to go to the doctor. Less than a week later he was dead. Cancer. In less than a week, he went from feeling great to dead. The family was unprepared, unable to let this young man go. We visited him in the ICU, and found him surrounded by machines that performed every function of life, filtered his blood, paced his heart, filled his lungs. On top of that, chemotherapy. No lengths would go untried to save this mans life.
Miracles happen, and they would give this man every opportunity to receive one. This time, the miracle was that his suffering was brief.

That same day, we get toned to a "man down" and on our drive over we speculate as the cause. A diabetic emergency? trauma? low oxygen? our update came in, "CPR in progress". As we pulled in, several dozen people were frantically jumping up and down, screaming and waving like we could possibly miss a horde of people all pointing the same way. Indeed, CPR had been in progress and the man wasn't doing well. We took him emergent to the hospital. He was our first C0R save. (started out dead, ended up less dead)

It's hard to put into words after a shift like that, how the shift went.
"We watched as one man suffered cancer in the last few hours of his life." I could try to explain.
Yet in the same breath " We really got to help someone today, someone who was really dead this time" How do you tell someone that this was one of the toughest and one of the best shifts?

How do you explain to the regular person that for the first time in your peace-making life, you thought about punching someone, because you learned that their 10 year old kid accidentally killed himself, trying to make himself sick to just get away from their parent.

How do you describe the highway roll over where nobody survived and you know you SHOULD feel horrified, but instead you're amped up and know you did your best.

How do you describe these things to those who don't know?

You don't. You just tell them that things are good. And business as usual at work.

02 November 2011

Keeping up with the Dibe

Operation Get Dibe on a mission has begun! I've started selling my movies and books will get posted in the next couple of weeks, plus a bake sale is coming up. Holy Wow, this is real. I'm going!

For your entertainment pleasure, some random quotes from the last shift:

Patient: You have quite the extensive vocabulary for someone your age... What grade are you in?
Me: I already finished school, I graduated!
Patient: Oh. I thought you were in Junior High.
Me: ... oh..
~~~~~~~~

Whilst discussing the safety of a police officer doing a traffic stop (while we were driving by)
Partner: Oh, don't shoot him
Me: Yeah, because we'll stab you! Versed in the butt cheek!!!
Partner: almost cries from laughing

~~~~~~
Me: Let's exit now
Partner: Why?
Me: The roads suck and we'll get pulled over. And I'll get tazed...
         "But officer, my partner was the one driving!"
          zap-zap-zap-zap-zap (imagine as a tazer)

Never a dull day for us

26 October 2011

The learning curve, ahead or behind?

Classroom learning is great and all, but the things you learn "out there" can be so much more useful, for example:

...If it came out of a persons' body, don't kneel in it.

...If it comes in projectile form, duck...

...When somebody tells you not to try something... trust them.

...Fabreeze can de-funk a lot... It cannot however, de-funk the smell of dead mouse. 

...It is never okay to ask a woman when she is due, unless expressly told by said woman that she is pregnant...

...If you ask a 90+ year old man if he is "embarasada" you might get punched...

...If I don't commit the night before, it will not happen in the morning, for example, if I tell myself "I should wake up in the morning to run", when that alarm goes off, I will decide "I can run when I wake up, but right now, I'm going back to bed" ...

...If you are kind to people, 9/10 they will be kind to you...

...When I am reliable, people ... rely ... on me. It's a concept. Weird how it works.

...It could always be worse, I am not internally decapitated!

...At this stage of my life, life is about the little things. Random dance parties at the intersection. Waving frantically at the cars around you like you know them. Recognizing the little miracles. Watching "The Game" with the guys and asking absurd questions (like if we're watching football, "Soo... that was a basket, right?"). 

...Sleep is a supremely beautiful and wonderful thing, one of those things that I willingly give up to do boring, lame, unexciting or downright awful things... silly

...The best game to play in stressful situations, is finding the strangest things to be grateful for, and turning a situation amusing, even if it's dark humor. 

... Prayer changes things. Try it... 

...Running is kind of a useless sport. You run to get better at running, so that you can be faster at running. Unless you are running from something (something that is moaning about the need for brains) or running too something (to catch a ball, to hug a friend etc) it's kind of dumb. and I'm kind of enjoying it...

...It's probably best not to sing "another one bites the dust" whilst performing CPR. It's kind of bad form...

...Everybody has some kind of problem or another. Nobody is exempt...

...If it's not broken, don't fix it!

...If you have a taser and are determined to help, don't aim for a moving target where half the target is friend, and half the target is foe!..

...If you get pulled over, police love to hear excuses like "No sir, I know that you took one look at me and had to invite me to the annual police officers' ball!"

...cutting down on "essentials" like a car, a smartphone and other electronic things has given me my life and hobbies back!

...It's not always easy to remember that just because I'm awake, doesn't mean the person I'm texting is awake.

...Just because she got the guy, doesn't make her prettier, doesn't make her better...

My life is anything but dull

25 October 2011

Can ye feel so now?

When my work life gets hectic, crazy and unstable...
When I fall into a funk of insecurity...
When my lungs don't want to work...
When my lips don't want to smile...
When my funny bone has taken off...
When I just can't stand to study a moment longer...
When I have exhausted myself to the point of ... exhaustion...
When I have reached a level of silly never before recorded...
When the snow starts to fall..
 and people start to act dumb on the roads...
When we get called to one accident after another...
When things just don't seem to be going right...

A night at the fire house, making fun of the X-factor with the boys. Everything starts to feel like it is as it should be. And I'm reminded of how blessed I am. And that if I have once felt to sing the song of redeeming love, can I feel so now?

20 October 2011

Sweet

F-16's. They make your insides vibrate! (somehow, I don't see that as being the slogan for the next Air Force recruitment video. Shame, it's catchy...)

14 October 2011

Run the Rocks

http://action.lungusa.org/site/TR/Events/ALASW_Southwest?px=4646600&pg=personal&fr_id=3541

I am an asthmatic. I have several flair ups a year that land me on steroids and in the ER. This race is for me and for the millions of others who have respiratory conditions like mine. My sister, Tessa, is running it. If you want to help out, go to the link and donate. If you can't donate, come cheer them on! If you can't do that. Think happy thoughts for the runners!

It's for a good cause.

13 October 2011

"She's got it!"

In Institute last night, a comment was made that really struck my heart.

For parents out there, when your child tries over and over to do something (potty train, tie their shoes, walk, etc) and they keep failing, you feel the anticipation that you know they are going to get it. But they have to work hard. And then when they finally get it, your eyes light up as you say "She's got it!" and "He did it!"

That's how our Heavenly Father treats us. I for one, am usually certain that Heavenly Father is looking out for the bad things that I'll do. for the negative thoughts, for the improper behavior. But He knows the world we live in. He knows that those things are going to happen. So He's looking for the good things. And when we finally succeed, He lights up with "She's got it!"

I need to think more along those lines. Maybe I would beat myself up so much when I failed or slipped. 
Hmm, just some food for thought

Utah pictures. Finally
































07 October 2011

Utah, Florida. And things like that

Things have been crazy lately! The trip to Florida was bitter sweet.

We forgot our camera, so we bought a disposable just for the trip to the Temple. I sure love trips to the Temple! Mama’s funeral was lovely. She planned it herself when she was first diagnosed with the cancer that she had. It just oozed Mama’s personality of every talk, every eulogy, every song. It was Mama everywhere. There was a song that she wanted played called “I Could Only Imagine.” by MercyMe. What a beautiful song, and very much Mama. The lyrics are as follows:

I can only imagine what it will be like
When I walk by your side
I can only imagine what my eyes will see
When your face is before me
I can only imagine
I can only imagine

Surrounded by your glory
What will my heart feel?
Will I dance for you Jesus,
Or in awe of you be still?
Will I stand in your presence,
Or to my knees will I fall?
Will I sing Halelluja,
Will I be able to speak at all?
I can only imagine
I can only imagine

I can only imagine when that day comes
And I find myself standing in the Son
I can only imagine when all I will do
Is forever, forever worship you
I can only imagine
I can only imagine
I heard it on the radio when I got back on shift afterward, which I’d never heard before the funeral. I’m now an avid listener for that song. It reminds me of the good times. The happy times. The memories.

My family and I got along reasonably well, considering we were in the same room, the same car, the same place for a week. That’s enough to grate the most patient persons’ nerves. But overall, it was a lovely trip. We got to meet family members who we’d never met before. My Uncle Steve, who is hilarious and fun, he reminds me a lot of my Uncle Johnny, who’s known as the family funny bone. We met our Aunt Lou, who is Mama’s sister. She is a riot too. And a wealth of family knowledge. And we saw Grandpa Ray again, and met his daughters. It was lovely. I sure love my family, even when we’re driving each other crazy and can’t stand to be near each other anymore. We had a few disasters. Natalie got stung by a Jellyfish! She broke out in hives. Alex lost his glasses to the great Gulf of Mexico. Then he too got stung by a jellyfish. Then finally I got stung by one. It was a blast. And a sting. Haha, get it?
Mom and I went to the Birmingham Alabama temple, which is about 5 hours North of Pensacola Florida. It was a great little road trip. And just what I needed, seeing as the Denver temple has been closed since August. I got to do baptisms with a youth group who’d come from South Alabama. It was wonderful. Even if the temple president thought that I was only 16. I suppose 16 is better than him thinking I was 36 or something, right?

Still, nothing was better than getting to sleep in my own bed once I finally made it home. I got to visit the Twin Peaks ward when I got home, for Institute, the night before we’d had FHE at their building, but I was still traveling home from Florida. When we got home, we decided that I would take Alex to Greeley so we could order him new glasses (we were unable to find his.) By that point I was grouchy, I was exhausted. I was in desperate need of a shower/bath/nap. And I was hungry. So I decided at first that I wasn’t going to go to Institute like I’d originally planned because I just wanted to get home. Then while I was at the store picking up something for dinner and some groceries for Mom, I felt like I needed to go. I did, it was lovely. I saw Elder Yarmo, who still swears that retaliation from our epic prank is on its way. I doubt it though, it’s been over a month since we struck, with nothing. It was fun to see my friends from the old stomping ground.

Home life was crazy after that for a while. Busy, exhaustions. Busy. Work, work, work.
Then onto the next adventure. Utah!

Becca and I had been discussing going to Utah for conference for a while. Some of my friends who served missions here, Ashley and Stephanie would be there, we’d get to see some friends from the ward who had recently moved and have some adventures in our time out there. So despite having just returned a week and a half before, we set out, including our newer friend Lee on our adventure! Becca, the stalwart and patient driver was the sole driver out. 8 hours! Crazy! We departed after noon, after we had surprised her Mom with flowers for her birthday. It was a lovely surprise!

We stopped somewhere along the way for gas, got some dinner and finished our trek to Taylorsville Utah, which was about 20 minutes from Temple Square. (Pictures forthcoming, when I can get to Walgreens!) We crashed Friday night after watching the end of the BYU vs Utah State game (way to pull up Cougars!) and then we watched some Star Trek. Then we went to bed.

The next morning, Saturday, donned early when I received a phone call saying “Dibe, we happen to have 3 extra tickets for conference this morning! Do you want them?”
“YES!” The loud and enthusiastic response burst out in my sleep-infused voice!
I quickly woke the other two ladies, we showered, dressed and ran out the door! Holy amazing!!! I loved being at conference!! Seriously! It was incredible! The Prophet was there! So were His Apostles! How incredible! So we sat, we watched. We laughed, we cried. Provo’s getting a new temple! How awesome is that! Two temples in one city proper! That’s so great! With the high volume of patrons between BYU students and the missionaries at the MTC, I can only imagine the welcome relief it will be. And the excitement! How blessed we are to have temples! A bunch of other temples were announced. France, Columbia, the Congo, Wyoming and Utah, all areas that have Saints shocked and grateful for the new addition to their communities. I know when the Ft. Collins Temple was announced, I was on cloud 9 for a long time! (Although now, the temple is being protested, but don’t fear. The Denver temple was relocated 4 times before the place was finalized. I just hope I will be back from my mission in order to go to the open house!)
Then we went to the Beehive house, around Temple square, and visited the cheesy Utah touristy places. I met with a bunch of sisters on their mission on temple square. I feel like I could spend 18 months there and still not learn all the things there are to learn about the history and such! After the morning session, we had a surprise Colorado reunion in the conference center lobby. We saw Steven, Kenton, Sean, Ashley and a few others! It was grand! Then we went to lunch with Steph, Ashley (the red head!), Al, and a few of their friends. Again, a jolly time1 So great! I loved it so much!

The next morning, we made it to the conference center for the morning session where we heard some of the best talks of conference, I thought! President Monson is amazing. Let’s just be serious about that. He is one heck of a Prophet. And that he truly is. A Prophet of God! He was hilarious, and inspiring and spiritual and wonderful! The best part of conference? I got to sing with the Prophet! Yep! That’s right! I sang with the Prophet! It was one of the most humbling and one of the most exciting experiences I think I’ve ever had! Okay, so I sang with 21,000 other people singing with the Prophet, but I’m good with that!!

We drove to Lee’s family in Pleasant Grove, which was really pretty darn cool. Their family is great! They have a 3 year old little Piranha of a boy. He got my thigh. But holy adorable, and lots of energy batman! Very cute little boy. And a 6 month baby boy. Also very cute. We sure had a good time!

After that, hilarity ensued due to exhaustion, sugar and shenanigans. So we have pictures of a fort we made in the living room of the people we stayed with! And we hiked Ensign Peak. A must-see, must-do hike if you’re in Salt Lake. It was great! The view was gorgeous. It was hard to imagine that valley completely empty like when the pioneers were there. That once the temple stood as the tallest building around, now dwarfed by the neighboring business buildings. It was quite the evening. We sat there for a while, each lost in thought. Finally we descended and went to bed. Early. We would need to be up at 440 am so that we could go to the temple before we left.

So, off the next morning to the temple we went. We parked under the conference center and got a little lost. We wandered up a corridor and found only a door with a doorbell that nobody answered. So we followed a man in a suit up another adjacent hallway. We looked around and a man hidden behind a corner asked for our recommends. At some point, the parking garage became the temple! We’re not sure when but it sure did! What a beautiful building! I could get lost in there, and happily so! The architecture was breath-taking. The design incredible. How can you not love a temple like that! It was amazing to go in and do baptisms. After that, some breakfast at Kneaders, as suggested by my Utah buddy Nettina, and then home! Another long drive with bad drivers, construction workers and random 98 second downpours and we were home. Becca and I, out of mental insanity or desperate need for some physical activity after hours in the car, decided to drive straight to FHE after we arrived in Boulder, which we did, and played volleyball with the ward. And it was the most fun volleyball game I’d participated in, in a long time!!

Adventures indeed!

In other news, I am CA free. No tumors on the ovary. Blood work came back a little irregular, my insulin/glucose ratio after fasting was elevated. That means I’m higher risk for diabetes and I need to exercise daily and watch my diet. It could mean Polycystic ovarian syndrome, but my GYN is hesitant to put a name on it yet. I’ll take it. Life is great. I am blessed!

I am going on a mission! Woop woop!

Basketball star??

No kidding, so there I was, ball in hand, pulse pounding in my ears. The crowds were silent. The whole room was frozen in place.
Do I shoot, or do I pass?

She shoots. She scores!!!!!

Two whole shots in like 4 games! That's right. Here I come WNBA!

09 September 2011

I believe in Christ, so come what may

What a rough week this has been. What a rough week indeed.

Monday I got an email saying that my Grandma (though true to Southern style, we called her Mama) died. It wasn't exactly unexpected, but it wasn't really expected either. She had a blood disorder, similar to leukemia, but not quite. Her health tanked pretty quickly and she died. There was a lot of guilt, still is. Guilt that I didn't call when I knew I was being prompted to call and check in. To talk one more time. Guilt for not sharing the Gospel. Then there was guilt because I know she's better now. Not hurting, not suffering. And yet I would rather her be alive. Pretty awful right? What kind of granddaughter would rather Mama be alive and hurting, than better. It's been painful and difficult to swallow the news. I am eternally grateful though, for the knowledge and the testimony of the Plan of Happiness. Because even if I'm hurting, even if I feel guilty, even when I feel like falling apart, I have a testimony of the Savior and the Plan. And that gives me hope. With that knowledge, I can survive this.

Wednesday, I was at work and had acute onset 9/10 pelvic pain. I tried to deal with it. I tried to push through it. Then I started feeling light headed, and I was vagaling from the pain. My pulse rate dropped to 54 and I was pale and cool. I was so miserable. I convinced my partner to take me to Urgent Care. Turns out I had a cyst on my ovary that burst. OW! In case you're wondering, bursting ovarian cysts, hurt. A lot. Alot. Not a little. A lot. Yeah. miserable. But I was still having pain. A lot of pain. Also, I was super dehydrated because I haven't been able to keep much down. So, I bought myself an IV and a liter of fluid. And then my blood work came back. My labs were off. Not critically off, but off enough that the MD was nervous. So she sent me straight away to Boulder Community for an Ultra Sound.

(Side note, funny story. The Ultrasound tech microwaved (or something like that) the gel that she put on my belly then started checking my lady parts with the wand of awful-ness and there it was... a heart beat! WHAT?! That is physically impossible! Seriously! Unless they rename me Mary and an Angel appears to me, it is not possible!! I started freaking out! I looked over and the tech was laughing. A lot. Apparently that's her favorite prank to pull! It's a good thing she doesn't know me too well, otherwise I'd prank her back. And I've never lost a prank war. As our Elders. We won.)

I was then instructed to sit in this chair and wait. Until what, I wasn't sure. But to sit and wait. So I sat. And I waited. And then a phone rang. I looked up the hall. Nobody. I looked down the hall. Nobody. I looked at the phone and fought the urge to answer "Harry's morgue, you stab 'em, we slab 'em!" instead, hesitantly answered the phone. "yuh.... Hello?"
"Hi, DiAnne?" The voice on the other end said.
God? I wondered.
"... Yeah...?"
"Hi this is Dr so-an-so, I just finished reviewing your Ultrasound and it shows that you have a cyst on your right ovary. It's a complex cyst, meaning it's full of fluid and solid material. you need to go see your doctor in the morning for a follow up. They'll do more tests. okay?"
"uh.. okay.." Solid material? What kind of fluid? What tests? What do the suspect?  I wondered as the doctor hung up.

The next afternoon, I walked to the doctor where they told me "We're going to do a CA125 and regular CBCs and an H and H as well as a blood panel."
I nodded. "What is the CA125, and what are you looking with everything else?"
"CA125 is a screening for Ovarian cancer. We're checking if you're anemic, we want to know what your white blood count is."
"woah woah woah woah. Cancer? What's the likelihood that I have cancer?" I ask.
"It's serious enough that this test needs to be done."
"Is it conclusive?" I ask
"No, this test is what they give women who are already diagnosed with Ovarian cancer to make sure it's not coming back."
Uh... okay?
So I find out Monday if I have cancer. Or I'm closer to knowing if I have cancer.

Darn lady parts. Funny, I've been telling people I don't think that childbirth is natural like they seem to say. And now with the potential for that to be taken away, I want to have kids. Not anytime soon. But I want kids.

Rough week.

I need a hug.

27 August 2011

Family History

So, I'm typically not one to remember dreams. Like. Ever. But recently, I've been dreaming about my family. Mostly, my Grandma. (Grams) I first dreamt about her at the beginning of August. I don't remember the setting of the dream, just that at first I was alone, or maybe I was doing something. But soon Grams showed up. She hugged me, she said hi. And then she got angry. 
"Why are you willing to go to the Temple and do baptisms for other people, but not your own family?" She accused.
"I haven't gotten any names done yet, Grams." I tried to explain. 
Suddenly, more people started showing up. 
Hey, that's my nose. I thought, looking at one man. We have the same eyes. I noted, looking at a younger woman. Soon, the dream became volatile. My family was PISSED. Angry words were hurled at me. Guilt and shame washed over me. And I woke up. 

That week, as I sat down to look at my lesson for Relief Society, and cringed. "Temple work and Family History." Haha. Very funny Grams... I thought. 
Still, the guilt and shame had lasted through the dream, into reality. So, I decided I should probably do some family history. 


I am not a detective, by any means. I'm not very good at solving mysteries. But I am loving doing family history. There's one ancestor, her name is Eva. I don't know why, but I feel... close to her? I don't know how to describe it. But whatever it is, it's pushing me to find out who she is. More about her life. Her family. Her parents. All I've learned so far is that she is my Great - great Grandmother, she was born in Croatia. Cool. 


I sure like my family. I sure wish I were better at finding them!

19 August 2011

Mrs. Kennedy

Thank goodness for the Atonement. Thank goodness for the Plan of Happiness that allows families to live together forever.
Our neighbor, Mrs. Kennedy died Wednesday night. And while my heart is sad for her, I know that she's okay.

Mr. Kennedy told us that he was just holding on to take care of his sweet heart. Now that she's gone, he has no reason to hold on, he says. That is sweet and breaks my heart.

Days like today, make me so grateful for my Savior.

16 August 2011

Helllooo?

I haven't really updated as to what's been going on in life. I don't actually have computer access anymore, unless I'm at work. That being said, I'm not sure anyone even reads this, so I could be typing to hear my own... voice? typing? haha. I understand.


Here are some things that are new(er) in my life.

I was called to be a Relief Society Instructor... Poor girls...
I am officially a Wild land fire fighter. That's right, this small and simple girl, can go on dispatch!
I now work a second job, at Exempla Good Samaritan Medical Center. I am in the PACU as a tech.
I am still preparing to go on a mission
I am counting my blessings
The TB saga continues
I really do not enjoy having cold hands.


I was called to be a Relief Society Instructor... Poor girls...
Imagine my surprise, when the 2nd councelor of the Bishopric calls me and says he needs to meet with me, and it's urgent.
Further, imagine my surprise when he tells me that he can meet me at my house. It's that important.
Well, I'm either going to get a call to repentence or I'm going to receive a calling. I wasn't sure which to hope for. As of that point, I held only the calling of FHE committee member and love it. FHE is like home to me, having served on a committee or as a chairmen since I first began attending YSA wards. I did not want to be released. But. I didn't want to be called to repentence urgently enough that I have to be sought out by the Priesthood holders in my Bishopric, that would be embarassing.
Brother Fischer came a-knockin' and dropped the bomb. "You are being called to be an instructor in the Relief Society" He tells me.
I laugh. Hahaha, no, but really, why are you here?
He repeats himself.
No no no, that can't be right. Have you met me? I don't like to speak formally infront of people. The idea of being responsible to declare Gospel truths to people is a lot. That is a lot of responsibility. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I teach something that isn't Gospel? No no no, wrong, wrong wrong.
to my surprise, I hear a muttered "I accept" leave me lips. WHAT?! I most certainly can't accept! no way!
And my first lesson, I'm told, is Eternal Marriage? Seriously? It couldn't be something a little more relavent to my life? I am not sealed to anyone, my folks weren't sealed. How could I relate this to a group of single women?! Still, I decided to accept. The lesson was... rough. To say the least. I am not a teacher, but I didn't realize how grateful I would be to get a chance to teach. To stretch those muscles, to strengthen that weakness. Because I do want to be a missionary, and to be a missionary means to be a teacher. And I am actually enjoying preparing lessons. It's just the delivery of lessons that I don't yet enjoy.


I am officially a Wild land fire fighter. That's right, this small and simple girl, can go on dispatch!
There isn't really more to this than the headline. I have my red card, but I don't have any of my equipment. I have a hard time justifying spending $400 or more on equipment, when I'm putting my paperwork in, in 11 months. Still, it's pretty cool to be able to say that I am a fire fighter.


I now work a second job, at Exempla Good Samaritan Medical Center. I am in the PACU as a tech.

The hours are ideal Monday - Friday, 0800-1800/1830. They only need me when our patient load is 20+ and I'm PRN. I am enjoying it much more than I expected to. It's easy work, but I'm working on being able to anticipate needs, to be efficient and knowledgable and dependable and likable. It's been fun. I like people. I like talking with people. I like cheering people up. It's lovely.


I am still preparing to go on a mission
holy cow, missions are expensive. I'll have bake sales and car washes and offer to mow lawns, rake leaves, babysit. Whatever I need to do. There's a lot to pay for! And I can't wait! I have been greatly blessed in my preparations. Money has started coming in from least expected places, I got my deposit back from the house. Money from where The Church has graciously paid my knee injury bills in full. (All I've paid has been coming back to me. Which means I can put it toward the mission. there have been some snafu's, but everything will work out. I'm excited to see how.

I am counting my blessings

I have been blessed. With so much more than I deserve

The TB saga continues
I get my next test in October, in the meantime, there's been drama with the fit tests. I had to see the workmans comp doc to make sure I had one that fit. They lost my paperwork. Ridiculous. Shenanigans. It's over. I'm happy. It fits. The end.

I really do not enjoy having cold hands.

Seriously. Cold hands = terrible