more medical terms!

Hey boo(s).
So.
I am going under the knife at eight.

 

It should be an adventure. 

Say a little prayer for me.

I hope to be reporting again soon.

Also. 

I got a job.

victory.

in medical terms

oh hey.
so I have this thing. it's weird. It first showed up a little over three years ago. Recently, it came back with a vengeance, and was all inflamed, causing my to feel like I was running a near-constant fever for about two weeks straight. This was coupled with a whole lot of pain in my neck meats.

delightsome.

Anyways. I'm headed to the doc this afternoon for a lil consultation to see what can be done about it. In the meantime, I thought it'd be nice to share my adventured with you. Sorry if it grosses you out. This might be fun, though.

So to start things off, here's a straight shot of the little frenemy that is building on the neck-region. See? It looks like a lump of hotness on my throat:

Next up, a zoomed-in view, just to be sure that we all know where, exactly, we're looking. yep. that's it. Right smack in the middle of my hyper-ticklish neck.

To make this feel more medical-y, I thought an X-ray would be nice.

  

And just in case, a thermal scan might be useful too. Looks like a blue boob growing on my throat. Cute!

 

Now I want you to just envision it in the clouds. Can you see it?

And what if I were "abducted by aliens", you ask? Wonder no more, dear reader:

The little guy has already seen Paris:

 

 Maybe it can visit Maui next?

 

I tried and tried to get it onto a rollercoaster and even the moon, but the stubborn little guy was too scared, and I ended up looking mostly dead (but with a lady-Adam's apple). such is life, I guess.

I am nervous about this whole situation... because the surgery requires a hospital stay and some intense anesthesia. Oh yeah... and a scar. Too bad I'm not really that in to scars. I get rather squeamish and nervous about medical stuff so... wish me luck. Or send me cookies. 

Or both? Yeah. Definitely both.

uh... yeah.

so guys.
it's time to get real.
I spend 93% of my day with... myself.

(Tangentially, but still related, I really really like myself. I like my interests and find my particular skill set and world-view to be exciting. I like being by myself... I'm probably an introvert who has learned how to be socially extroverted because, well, that's what we do as human beings. Maybe?
I like that I like things. I like that I have interests and I am still learning. A lot. 
I have maybe perfected a whole-wheat bread recipe. I have made at least five different types of soup. I have read plenty of books, and have worked on improving relationships with some family members. I have gone to parties (which I was previously in a serious funk about...), and actually enjoyed them. I have written and edited. I have helped new life come into this world. I am learning to serve better + more.

I have learned how to pray again, and really mean it. 

I have learned to listen to myself more. Maybe it's because there's no one else around, but still. I think this will prove vital. 
This wasn't intended to excuse the time I have spent, rather to illustrate that I like myself and find meaning in the time that we have together.)

(this video, while I understand it's about a breakup of a relationship with some dude, sort of feels like my breakup with school and normal-people-dom.)


I had a serious bout of feeling insecure/frustrated/disenchanted/boring/bored/annoyed/anti-social/guilty/terrible/nervous//depressed/barfy/sick/lame about my situation.

It was a really ugly emotional and self-centered coleslaw of yuck feelings.

That's the honest truth.

I have spent a lot of time telling myself to be happy and to invest myself into choosing happiness (which I DO, in fact, believe is a choice... maybe this is a by-product of my fancy-pants learn-to-think lib arts education?).
But that choice can be really really hard to make when you are reviving feedback that your life is boring. Which I did. Three times. IN. A. ROW.
Let's just say that there are some "friends" that I thought I had, who I will happily use Nebraska as an excuse to avoid. No, thank you, I don't need anyone to ask me if I have a job yet. I'm good at that question myself. I don't need anyone to encourage me to apply. I promise I've applied. And yes: I've even called back. I know full well that the squeaky wheel gets greased, but I don't speak Russian or have a teaching certificate from the state of Utah, and I am sorry that I have a degree that makes minimum wage income beyond my capacity... So I maintain my status.

I have told you, dear reader, several times on this very blog, about my convictions, and I am grateful for the support. I am holding to them.

I am recommitting to wonderment (baby plant life is pushing itself up through the soil. What's not to wonder about?!).

I am recommitting to hope (I was accepted to my top choice of graduate program. With funding. Duh.).

I may have to recommit every single day, and you may hear about it.
every. single. day.

sometimes

sometimes bestiefriends come to town.

and then this happens:

and it is good.

very good.