Last Lecture

 On November 7, I attended the last lecture of my mentor at BYU. Dr. Mandleco was my faculty advisor for my honors thesis, so I was able to get to know her quite well during my last year there. She mostly talked about her research and how it was enriched by her work with students. (I even got a mention.) Afterwards, there was a luncheon in her honor. However, the fire alarm went off, so it was cut short. I found it slightly hilarious that I was at BYU for five years, and this was the first time that I experienced a fire drill.

Every time I go back to BYU, I get very nostalgic. Despite all of the drama those five years entailed, they really were some of the most fun years of my life, plus all of that drama shaped me into a much better person and also better equipped me to handle drama. Most of all, I miss all of my friends, especially my many roommates. Keeping in touch on Facebook and stalking their blogs just isn’t the same as being able to just chat with them whenever I want. However, I don’t miss the stress of school. Yes, I know that I am in grad school right now, but BYU was so much harder. There was constant pressure to keep my scholarship, as well as be accepted to the nursing program, plus trying to keep all of the information from four or more classes straight got kind of dicey at times. I also shake my head at my younger self when I think of all the drama because most of it was self-inflicted. I really had it pretty good. Plus, the whole being an old maid thing worked out in the end, and I am grateful that it worked out the way it did, even if it means I pretty much have an aquarium in my basement. I think Kevin was worth the wait.

P.S. I thought I had a picture of Dr. Mandleco and I from graduation, but apparently I failed at getting one. Oops.

Triceraboxer

Since we don’t have kids, we have to dress Luna up for Halloween. We tied her to our coffee table, so people could see her, but she couldn’t attack them with her tongue or take herself on any adventures. She was quite a hit with the teenage girl demographic. One group of girls even snapped her picture with their phone.

29 Years

Back at the beginning of October, I celebrated my 29^th birthday, although I use the word celebrate very loosely, as I was beyond sick. I was scheduled to work three days in a row due to my mother’s surgery and my plans to take some PTO, which I was not excited about (working three in a row, not the PTO, I always like time off work), nor was I excited about working on my birthday. The morning of my first shift I woke up around 4 am feeling crummy; however, it was too late to call in sick (we have to do that at least four hours prior to our shift), so I sucked it up and went to work, hoping I would somehow feel a little bit better. I did a little bit, but mostly because I was working with my coworker who is a recent breast cancer survivor, and it is hard to feel sorry for myself, when I think of everything she has gone through this year. All day I went back and forth between trying to decide if I wanted to call in sick the next day or not. I figured it would look fishy if I called in sick on my birthday and right before I left on “vacation.” However, once I got home and felt even worse, I decided that I didn’t care what my coworkers thought, plus I was pretty sure they would be okay not sharing my germs, so I called in sick and the majority of the next two days were spent on my couch or in bed sleeping. I think it was my “favorite” birthday ever. 

I was still feeling really crummy on Friday, the day I was supposed to go to my moms, but I figured I had already committed to helping my parents out, and in theory their couch was as comfortable as mine. I did mostly chillax when I got there on Friday, but Saturday was filled with errands, plus I was trying to help Kevin find his elk license (which he found once he drove back to Salt Lake). After all of that I was exhausted and it felt like my oxygen saturations were in the toilet. I felt like my brain was beyond oxygen deprived. My parents (especially my father) were starting to freak out a bit, so they talked me into going to the instacare in Park City. Of course I was fine, but the doctor had me freaked out about a pulmonary embolism caused by birth control pills. Plus, on top of that, the MA was someone I went to high school with, so that made me feel even more like a hypochondriac. After a chest x-ray, labs, and a breathing treatment, they decided I wasn’t going to immediately die, so they sent me home. I think I finally felt better a couple of days later. This visit was more low-key than previous visit, as I didn’t have to deal with the woolies or garden. My dad and Luna didn’t even clash much. I even almost convinced my dad’s friend Lynn that Luna wasn’t a bloodthirsty killer. Plus, it was refreshing that I only had to work one shift before I had my next day off.