Moving right along...

Nothing like an illness to make you feel like the most boring person in the world. I feel like the only thing I am capable of conversing about is the state of my health, my energy level, my disability paperwork, my weight loss from a week without food, etc. etc. etc. I am boring myself. Apologies to all who have had to listen, especially to the details that didn't seem so gross in the hospital but become completely disgusting in normal, civilized company.


I figure if I get it out of my system, by the time I return from my real two week vacation (starting Friday night) I might actually have something other than the above details to converse about. So I've decided to give the highlights of the last two weeks. Feel free to skip this week's confession...heaven knows I wish I could.


My thoughts on narcotics:
Just say no to drugs, kids. The narcotic level of the first few days of my hospital stay was heavy for me, a squeaky clean Mormon kid who has a hard time convincing herself that Advil is necessary after an 18 mile run. My memories of the emergency room are fairly foggy post-drugs, as is my first full day after being admitted to the hospital, the first day I ended up in the cardiac ward, and the day of my procedure, all of which involved narcotics. In fact, they think it was the narcotics that slowed my heart rate to the 35 bpm that landed me in the cardiac ward in the first place. It took us two days to get it into the 40s. Talk about a hangover.

Anyway, the docs initially tried to tell me my plummeting heart rate was due to the fact that I am so athletic. Right. Honey, Lance Armstrong might hang out in the 30s, but let me tell you this: I ain't Lance Armstrong. Not even close.


My thoughts on medical procedures:
CT scans: okay. The contrast tasted like gatorade. All in all painless. Two thumbs up.

X-rays: okay. I got to watch the dog show while I was waiting. I hate dogs, but the show is always strangely fascinating to me. You can blame Cherie for this one. I had never seen it until our first Thanksgiving together... Anyway, the x-ray was Tom's favorite procedure, since they were looking for free air. Tom knows what free air is. Apparently he has an overabundance of it. However, the doctors did not find any in my x-ray. Shocking.

Colonoscopy: I have no words to adequately describe my detestation. Already dehydrated, already weak, the goLYTLY (if ever there were a misnomer...) did me in. I don't know that I've ever cried for four hours straight before. But there I was, sobbing in front of my friends as they tried to convince me that there were curly fries at the bottom of every glass. Bless Jane and Seth for the timely bestowal of Colin Golightly, who I clutched for the entire four hours. Bless Katie for the four hour backscratch. Bless Arianne and Melinda for reading me Wordsworth and telling me stories. Bless Dan and Ryan for yet another priesthood blessing.


My thoughts on health in general:
I don't know that I've ever been so aware of how good my health has been until this experience. Sure, I've experienced some injuries (all self-inflicted from running) but never have I had my general health so swiftly stripped away from me. Two weeks ago I was running 35 miles a week and swimming or biking every day as well. Now I struggle to walk a mile without getting tired. I'm getting stronger with each day (today I walked two miles), but I am certainly more aware of what a gift my body is. Plus, being surrounded by those much more ill than I was also a deeply humbling experience. For instance, in between visitors Sunday night (during the goLYTLY), my hospital roommate said through our curtain, "with the faith and prayers of your friends, you're going to be okay." This coming from a woman with congestive heart failure, diabetes, and cancer. I was humbled to be comforted by someone in so much pain with so little hope of regaining their own health. I have offered many prayers of gratitude for this experience.


Favorite hospital moments:
1. Snuggling in bed with friends, watching movies, having JenG bring all the jello, ice cream, and cookies we could eat (I was the jello eater...everyone else got ice cream, sandwiches, and cookies). In case you were wondering, the hospital beds can fit three people snugly. You just have to get a little friendly.

2. Jane's rendition of "Do as I'm doing."

3. "You don't want to spoon this."

4. Bekah's curly fries. (p.s. Dan took me to get some as soon as I was released)

5. Drunk-dialing both Katie and Dan to tell them about my procedure. When Katie called me later in the day and referred to some of the details, I asked who told her about it all. She responded, "You did, Julie." I have no recollection of placing that phone call. Good thing being Mormon protects me from this being a regular occurrence.


Serious/special hospital moments:
1. The two blessings I received were inspired, powerful, and the main reason I have made such a quick recovery. The doctors were amazed. I, however, was not surprised.

2. For such a traumatic experience, I felt God's hand in every step of the way. Miracle after miracle occurred. One night, I was planning on praying for strength and patience. I knew it was just a matter of time before my patience ran out and I cracked. However, as soon as I started praying, my heart swelled with gratitude and I found myself thanking God for this entire experience. The tears flowed freely and I felt an outpouring of His love for me. I felt that this whole thing was all on purpose, that God was teaching me some very important lessons because He loves me. I knew at that moment what I was supposed to be learning and then spent a very long time writing in my journal. I also knew that the recovery would be the most difficult phase for me...and I was right. It has tested my patience to the limit, has left me too much with my thoughts, too much time to think about and plan for a future that I know it's not time to think about yet. I have learned that I need to focus on this: recovery. And once that is done, it will be time to move onto the next phase. What that is, I don't know. But I trust God to make it known to me when the time is right. Keeping that under control, though, is a daily struggle. But I can do it. I am doing it. Look at me go!

And with that, let's put all this hospital nonsense behind us. I go to Utah tomorrow and then off to Mexico for a lovely beach and ruins vacation with Tommy Chucky Waa. Family love. Rock on.