So many historic events have happened...

I feel that (like my devotional suggested this morning) I should be honest. I am a fairly awful blogger. I don't feel the need to write anything unless i have something incredibly interesting to post. As you can see, I haven't had anything interesting since January. I think I might be fairly depressed if i stopped to think about that last sentence, but I don't really want to.

New happenings in the form of bullets:

+ I graduate with on Friday in a ceremony of silence (once again depressing)

+ I am moving to Oklahoma to work with joesaddiction.com

+ I spend a lot of my free time looking at photography blogs. It sucks me in like nothing else.

+ I have three rather unattractive new scars on my back. The only reason I say this is because it leads me into the point of this blog.

sidebar: I feel rather showy for what I am about to write. Just understand that it isn't my purpose, the reason I am sharing about my scars and their origin is my dad and my friend Sara have suggested that I do so. Being that I am now officially done with school, I have little extra time to do this.

It was the week before Spring Break '09 when I first thought something could be wrong. I called my dad one morning and explained to him how i felt that i had a gas bubble stuck in my chest. He told me to be careful and not let it get too bad. The next day when the "bubble" left and a strong cough took its place, I thought i was in the clear. Sometimes overcompensating for the feeling that I am weak, I simply ignored the times when I would double over coughing for no reason. Well, there was a reason, just not one that I knew of. I finally went to a Dr. the thursday of SB and was prescribed generic cough medicine, which I honestly think was a placebo which in turn made me feel even more weak. The following wednesday, I opened the Coffee Shop. After about two hours, I reached my breaking point. My chest felt like it was going to explode and I couldn't think straight. (wow, i am going to attempt to make this way shorter than it is on the path to being). After getting someone to come in early, finding a dr., finding another dr. that could see me that day, driving myself to the dr. and getting a chest x-ray, I was informed that my right lung ad decided it didn't want to be a lung anymore. So, out of protest, it stopped working. Thinking this sounded serious, but not knowing how i should respond, I asked the dr.

"how should i feel about this news"

to which he responded, nonchalantly "you should go to the ER"

"oh, awesome" I replied with sarcastic emotion

I drove myself home, called Sara, packed an overnight suitcase and began the journey to Waco. We met my parents at the ER and were immediately admitted. After laying me on a table -awake- (rainboots on and everything), hooking me up to laughing gas -still awake- and cutting into my side -very awake- they began to inflate my lung while i was WIDE AWAKE. This was just the beginning.

That began the 10 day stay that my mom and I enjoyed in the hospital. After surgery a week after admission, I began the road to recovery. There were some nights where I thought I wouldn't be able to ever handle anymore pain. There were other days where i thought my smile wouldn't be able to get any bigger because of the outpouring of love from my friends and friends of my family.

Exciting story- On the second to last day that I was in the hospital, the president of my university called my room phone. The call went like this:

Dr. Cook- Yes, is this Alsia?

Me- Yes, sir.

Dr. C- This is Gary Cook

Me- Hello

Dr. C- So i heard that you were in the hospital. I know how that goes. I am sorry to hear that.

Me- Yes, I am just hanging out in here, but i am doing a lot better

Dr. C- I pulled up your picture, I think i have seen you before. Do you play on the soccer team?

Me- Umm, no, but I thought about it.

Dr. C- Well, great. Listen, if you have any trouble finishing your assignments in school, it will be no problem for you to just finish them over the summer. Just come to my office if you have any issues.

Me- Wow thank you so much

Dr. C- I hope you get out very soon

Me- Thank you very much

I hung up the phone and then looked at my mom with a slight grin.

Mom- who was that?

Me- Dr. Cook, DBU's president, just called to say he was sorry i am in the hospital.

Mom- Woo hoh hoh, that is pretty big

Me- He called me Alisia

we both through our heads back in laughter!

When recounting that story to people, I don't really dwell on what he called me, just the fact that e called.

I will leave you with this last tale: The entire time I was in the hospital, I had a tube coming out of my side. It was connected to a rather dumb looking plastic container that I had the joy of carrying with me everywhere I went. Well after the surgery, they were able to finally relieve me of my constant companion. When talking about the subject, no one ever explained to me how this was accomplished. What is dumber is, I never thought/cared to ask. The following is what happened (My thoughts are italicized):

Dr.- Ok, (to my mom) I am going to go ahead and get you to leave the room.

umm, why would he ask her to do that?

Dr.- Can you lay on your side for me with your arm above your head? We are going to get this thing out of you!

YES, I never thought this day would come. I will be able to do all sorts of arm motions now. I can make a windmill...if i had a reason to.

Nurse 1- Where do you need me?

Nurse 2- I will just stand at the foot of the bed until you tell me otherwise

Dr.-Ok Alyssa (as he slowly pulls tape off of my body and from the tube), I want you to take a deep breath and then when you breathe out, i want you to tense everything like this (demonstration).

I am glad he is making sure my lungs are working. Hey, I still have some abs. I thought I would be nothing after a week in this bed.

Then the Dr. takes a firm grasp of my tube and with one motion, while i am tensing everything, he whips the tube out of me -EVEN MORE AWAKE-. All I see out of the corner of my eye is the tube flying out of my side. It looked like he had pulled the freakin tube out of my body like a sword from a sheath and then brandished it above his head and mine. Horrified would be an accurate word to describe my emotions at that point. However, that wasn't even the worst part.

Nurse 2- Oh wow

Dr. - Did I get you a little?

Nurse 2- oh yes, well

Not only was my surgeon treating my like a leather sheath, he was freely sharing my bodily liquids with my nurse. Umm, I don't ever recall signing a waver for that!

Oh awful! It was traumatic and I am not sure I ever wish to go through that again. The hospital, only lung thing was nothing compared to my zealous Dr. and his joy with chest tubes!

It has been a very eventful semester, if there is one thing i have learned it is to not wait so long to blog. Way too much has happened

...since my last post

These are my lung pictures. The Dr. told my parents and me that I had "Beautiful anatomy" to which he quickly classified "Beautiful lung anatomy, I am used to seeing older messed up lungs" Yeah, sure!!! hahaha