On moving forward and looking back

I was looking at my lesson plans from last year to see what resources i had for this coming week. I mean, why reinvent the wheel, right?

Anyway, this took me right to the less lessons I wrote for Thanksgiving week last year. The week I headed to the hospital for a stomachache and came home with less insides and secret cancer. I also signed up for the Thanksgiving dinner, which is the event I left early last year because of the pain in my stomach.

I was looking through old blog  posts tonight and I read through the first post I wrote post surgery. Rereading about the ultrasound and that terrifying moment of waking up with a bandage on my stomach and a tube in my nose bright back more intense feelings than I would have expected. You can forget a lot in a year, apparently. I guess that explains why my 7th graders cannot seem to remember what we learned about persuasive writing last year... but anyway.

You may wonder about the point of this post. Why look back on that? Why remember? What's the point?

In bible study tonight, we looked at some Psalms. I was struck by the fact that even the praise Psalms have parts about times of trouble, and the lament Psalms have memories of God's faithfulness in the past.

I may not always be up. I'm not actually, and it's something I've really been struggling with. But I have a God.. the God who I remember has been faithful in the past... through the surgery, recovery, and so many other storms. I can see how he used some of them, and I can use those memories to remind me to trust him to use the rest.

On Distance

I think I've written that this year, I feel much farther from home than last year. If I haven't written/verbalized it... whoops. I feel that.

I haven't quite figured out why - if it's the fact that my friends are starting their "real" lives with real jobs and real apartments in what could be long-term situations, if it's the fact that my sisters are all graduating and moving on to the next stages of their lives, if it's my little brother starting college or my other little brother turning into a soccer star... or if it's just the fact that I've made even less time to call home this year.

I don't know if it's the fact that I feel I'm moving in such a different direction from people at home, where trying to connect over the differences in our lives seems like way more effort than I have energy at the end of the day. Or if it's the fact that looking forward to moving back the States makes me focus more on how I'm not there now. Or whatever.

Anyway. It's been something I've been feeling all year. Or, all 10+ weeks since I've been back.

It's also something I'm feeling especially strongly right now.

As some of you may know, my Grandma died sometime early this morning.

And she is gone, and the distance between memories of her from childhood seems unfathomable.

And my family is wonderful and they've been great today about keeping in touch and including and loving me from afar... but I feel the distance, especially when I think of not being able to hug my mom until December 21.

And so today I am sad. Very sad, in fact. And I feel the distance.

Psalm 139:7-10

Where can I go from your Spirit? Where can I flee from your presence? If I go up to the heavens, you are there; if I make my bed in the depths, you are there. If I rise on the wings of the dawn, if I settle on the far side of the sea, even there your hand will guide me, your right hand will hold me fast.

I'm thankful today for parents and grandparents who encouraged memorizing and being familiar with scripture and hymns, and that I have a God who brings the right words to memory when I need them.

On I'm a stuck up jerk sometimes

The past couple days I've felt especially far from home. I mean, geographically, it's the same as its been for most of the past year+. But I'm feeling the distance in relationship between family and friends much stronger right now. 

I came to Honduras seeking independence, among other things. I wanted to prove that I am indeed the type of girl who can up and leave and a make a new life, no looking back. That girl seemed strong and ideal. 

I have a lot of students. They have different strengths and weaknesses. Some of them appear to be able to do more awesome things than others. I get along with some of them much better than I do with others. 

But, despite their differences, I don't have one or ten or twenty students who are "ideal" or "more awesome" than all the rest. Their value isn't from fitting some perfect mold. 

We're reading/finish A Wrinkle in Time again in 6th grade. The "perfect" world without differences horrifies my students. I mean, it horrifies me too, in a book. And in theory, in real life. Yet, I frequently fin myself wishing the world went my way an looking down on others who have taken different paths than I have or would. 

Diversity is good. One type of lifestyle isn't inherently better than the others. I can dream of a life closer to friends and family, in a "normal" school. I can be dependent. I don't have to meet some standard to be worthwhile.

Not that being here isn't good too. Gah. So many choices in life. I guess I'm just thankful for a God who can use all the variety and choices to teach and instruct and bless as he sees fit.

#mskroon

My students pretty frequently ask me for words. Considering that they only use English at school, I usually indulge them if they can explain the concept to me in English. This almost always leads to pretty tame, uneventful conversations like

"Mees, what is the word that means you want all the things of the other person?"

"um... jealousy?"

"No mees, it is not yealous. The other one."

 "Umm... um.... envy?"

"Jes mees, it is envy."

Perfect. Phew. That was a close one.


But today I get this lovely gem.

"Mees, I need you to help me with a word."

"Ok, can you describe it in English?"

"Will you get mad?"

"Um, not if it's school appropriate."

"You will not get mad?"

At this point I'm nervous, but also quite curious.

"No."

"Ok. What is the word that means a really big fart?"


...

...

They have a separate word for that? Like, fluperart? maxifart? gigantifart? It's it's own word? I should have asked. Because now, I don't really know how to look up "really big fart" in a spanish dictionary. Sometimes second language skills are hard.

"Um, I would probably say a really big fart. Or maybe, a disgustingly dreadful fuming fart."

"eye roll. Mees. That is not how you would say it. And why do you talk about farts?"

Um... because you asked. And because I can, I guess.


Speaking of sweet scents, this morning I got the most perfect rose I've ever seen. Not one of those grocery store/nice flower shop if you know someone who got time for that roses, but the kind that grow in the garden and bloom and smell the same no matter what country you're in. The kind that smell like my mom. The kind that make me miss her and almost cry.

This afternoon, I was tagged in a photo that contained my first hashtag. And, yes, I am proud. Like, took a screenshot and showed it to more people than I care to admit proud. Like I say to my kids... "whatever, I'm 23. Judge away." (and they do... so you're welcome to too)

I think there have been a lot of times recently when I've vocalized the feeling of not fitting in. I say I'm having a hard time feeling like myself here. I have complained about my job.

But thinking back on the events of today and this week... this is part of me too. The farts, flowers, and facebook hashtagging excitement... that's me.

It might sound silly, but it's really reassuring to remember that I still exist.

Time

So, this is the new year. 

It's a little hard to believe we're already in the second week of school. Then again, it's also hard to believe it's only the second week of school. 

Being back at school is reminding me of the strange sense of time a busy life seems to bring with it. On one hand, I'm always waiting for it to be Friday. I mean, I love my kids, but I also REALLY love not getting up at 5:30. I mean 5:45. Whoops. Could my week MOVE any slower?

 On the other hand... It's already 9:48 and I still have plenty of work I could do. I feel like it was JUST Friday. Where does the time go? 

One thing I'm trying to work on this year is accepting time for what it is. To enjoy spending time with people without constantly thinking about the other things I'm not doing. To accept limitations and maybe go to bed at a decent hour. To use the time I have at school wisely instead of procrastinating on facebook. 

Oh, time. It's a funny thing. When I think ahead to the year ahead of me... it seems forever long. But then I think back on the year that has gone by since I started school for the first time... and it seems like I just moved to Honduras for the first time. 

Amidst all these thoughts about time, a verse we looked at in church on Sunday pops into mind. We looked at John 8:58 (for just a second) which says, 58Jesus said to them, "Truly, truly, I say to you, before Abraham was born, I am." 

One of the things I love about this verse is the grammar... the tense, the wordplay. Oh Jesus, you're so good with your 6+1 Traits sometimes. The nerd in me just loves it. But, more than that, the me living each day minute by minute and hour by hour thought the rushing and the waiting appreciates that no matter how long a day or month takes, or how quickly this year moves by... the one who was, who is, and who will be is there... sovereign over time, sovereign over life, but still walking/running/crawling with me down this path. 

Guess who's back?

A week ago today, I hadn't even started packing.

I was quietly protesting a move I wasn't sure I could make but didn't feel I could really prevent. So I, obviously, avoided it. Also there was this wedding that I was so excited to be a part of taking a good deal of my time, not to mention all the best times like John Mayer with my best friends and sister.

Anyway. The day managed to come and I managed to pack, and I'm back in Honduras.

Since I arrived back, I've felt a lot of things, which, I suppose, is to be expected. I miss people who aren't here, especially my beloved roommate and middle school co-workers. I miss my car and texting on a real phone and knowing that I'm only a car ride away from most of the people I love the most. I miss home.

On the other hand, I feel like I'm back home and it's the most normal thing in the world. I'm nerdy, I know, but I love thinking about school stuff. I am PUMPED to be living with some great roommates, to be close to that guy I like. I like being back in my house, in my room, going to the grocery stores and malls that feel more familiar than the Meijer I went to twice at home. Even my body and intestines seem to really prefer being here, which is a huge blessing pretty much all the time.

Overall, it's really good to be back. Starting another year also brings up lots of memories of starting last year... and also all the other things that happened last year. It reminds me to be thankful for all the prayers and support that I couldn't have gotten by without. This thought has continually brought up the thought and feeling that I need to ask you not to let me fall through the cracks. Although I still believe I'm right where I should be... I get tired and discouraged, and I just can't do it all alone. Any prayers, any time are always appreciated. And I'm not perfect at it (or even good at it), but I'm working on doing a better job of praying for y'all too.

Much love from Honduras,

A

Coming "home"

I have officially been done with school for a week. I've thought about writing a blog post to wrap things up, but between packing up and leaving Honduras, spending almost two days traveling, spending another two days at my parents' house, and starting work today... I just haven't gotten around to it.

Well, that's one excuse. I guess the other would be that I haven't quite figured out what to say. But, as I tell my kids, sometimes when everything is tangled up inside you and you're not sure how you feel or how to express it, writing is a good way to get things out of your head and into the outside world so you can start to make sense of things.

So here we go.

I think one of the most confusing things about being back and being done with everything is figuring out how I even feel. I KNOW that my family is being nice to me by listening to all my stories even  when they're not asked for and that no one REALLY wants their question "How was Honduras?" in more than an hour. They're expecting one or two sentence response. Thank you Laura for providing me with a new default... "Honduras was great. I had awesome but challenging kids in my classes and I got cancer. What else do you want to know?"

Except that feels so horribly trivial and almost untrue. I mean, yes... but also no. It was good, but also hard. I worked all the time, but I also met some really great people. I had cancer... but I also got scuba certified and taught for almost 8 months. Yes, I ate some American food (HAMBURGERS!), but I also ate at my favorite little tipico restaurant almost weekly.

Am I happy to be back? Certainly. I missed Taco Bell. And my family. And a lot of other things.

Am I excited to go back? I think I will be, although I'm not used to being here.

And there's just the issue of home. I packed up my home to come home, and then from my home I went to my home and now I'm back at my home, although, I'm going home again this weekend. But, I'm excited because my room at home is getting painted this summer and I'm anxious to see it in August.

It's confusing. But that is maybe the best summary of how I feel right now. I'm glad to be home, but I've enjoyed my time at my other home. It hasn't been one big vacation, and it hasn't always been  easy. But home and life never is, I guess. Adjusting back... that's a whole other story.

What a year

Yesterday was a big day.

It marked the 24th birthday of one my dearest friends, 4 months of being cancer-free, one month of dating this one guy, and also, it was the last classroom day of my first year of teaching.

So it seemed blog worthy.

Except I don't think it has hit me yet that this school year is nearly over and that one week from now, I'll be the airport in Houston watching my friends make their connecting flights and texting friends and family from my American phone and hopefully eating Taco Bell.

Yesterday at our end of the year North American Teacher Barbecue, we had to think about how we've changed this past year, and how it'll effect us and our relationships while we're home for the summer. 

My first reaction? I haven't changed. What are you talking about? Oh, I guess I've lost a couple centimeters of intestines, but nothing else.

But then I think about the way I felt my first day that my kids walked into my room. It was mysterious, all these strangers sitting in alphabetical order because I told them to, listening to me talk because they had to... and how they were yesterday, after spilling secrets in conversations and writing, talking to friends, laughing, comfortable. I don't think it's hit me how much I'll miss them, but if the months I spent out of commission are any indication, it'll probably be a lot.

And then there were those months out of commission, when I was forced to rely on others to take care of my when my body turned against me and I wasn't able to take care of myself. The helplessness of being in the hospital, the mental exercise of getting through when nothing is making sense.

And the relationships both here and at home... they really have changed. I've learned more about who is willing to stick around even when I'm busy and don't skype or reply as often as I would like to, when I complain a lot, and when everything is changing. And the ones who know me here and have come beside me through a challenging year.

I went out for breakfast with my dear friend and mentor this morning and was reminded of just how much I love and need this community here and how different next year will be because I do have all this new knowledge that I just don't realize. I mean, I've pretty much completed a year of teaching. That's got to count for something.  


And I guess that's the good thing about time passing. It's given me time to grow in so many areas, and I'm so thankful that I'm where I'm at today. Even though some of it has been hard.

So now it's on to packing, cleaning up, and saying goodbyes. And then hellos.



I took a bajillion photos yesterday and probably cannot put them all up here. But here are some highlights of my amazing babies.

This student went from being involved in a ton of girl drama all the time to finding a place where she could be herself. Her enthusiasm and unconditional love has been appreciated all year, and I would frequently receive lunchtime visits at my window from her.

 Hooray! She won the most improved map test score in the whole middle school, and she definitely deserved it. The hard work she did the last two quarters paid off, and it's been so fun to be a part of that growth and to celebrate every good grade in all her classes.

Ahh... the boys who spent most of the last quarter testing every ounce of patience I had because 13 year old boys will be 13 year old boys... but who are all such good kids. And who are SO much taller now than they were at the beginning of the year. But also I'm slouching.

 This is the long-lost cousin I never knew I had. It's hard to believe she wasn't here until October, but she's made my life better pretty much every day since then. My 6th grade co-teacher in the background has been pretty good at that as well.

Gah. Although she seemed a bit tough to get to know at the beginning of the year and still gives me pretty annoyed faces and says "really miss?" an awful lot... she's always had faith that I could be her best teacher. And coming from a 6th grader who is fortunate enough to be taught by an AMAZING team... it's always meant a lot. 

The last person to leave my classroom every day, she's always been interested in my life and in sharing hers. One of the most precious moments of the school year was when, after a VERY trying day, she closed my blinds and locked the door on her way out so I could have some time alone. I'm excited to have her again in 7th next year.

On Running

Last Sunday I ran in a race. Now, I wouldn't say I RAN the race, because after about 3.5 kilometers I might have started this fun alternate version of walk/running. But I was in the race, and completed the race. So that's nice.

Anyway. A tiny bit before I started walk/running, I was making a list in my mind of all the people who I needed to tell to keep an eye on me and do whatever was necessary to stop me from signing up for another race in my life ever. I mean, someone needs to control the crazy.

I was tired. My body was aching,  I was dying of thirst, and my head and heart were having a contest to see which could pound harder. So fun, right?

After I finished the race, I felt so proud. I wanted to document it, because I did something challenging. Sometimes it sucked a lot, but I finished. I met the difficulties and made it through. And I kind of want to do it again now that I know what it's like. Need to improve, yo.

I think I'm in that walk/running stage of the school year. I'm tired, my soul feels a little achy, I'm falling apart and it seems like EVERYTHING is competing for my attention.

There's a part of me that wants to say I can't do this again. I was crazy to sign up for this.


But I suppose there's also a part of me that can't wait to finish, to be able to say I did it, and that maybe it wasn't that bad. And I'm kind of excited to do it again and improve and all the things.

But first things first... finishing. I can do this.

3 Months Later

It has been a month since my last post. It's been two months since my post, 1 Month Later.

Those of you who can count and read might notice a trend here. There are milestones to be celebrated, or at least documented, and this seems like as good of a place as any to do it.

Re-reading previous posts, I feel like you get a pretty accurate picture of what post-cancer, post-surgery, post-drama (sort of) life is like. Some days have been fantastically normal, some have been fantastic, and others... well... have been neither fantastic nor normal, I suppose.

As I think back to my night three months ago spent in the hospital, preparing to get cut open and injured and taken apart, I remember how much I hated it. I hated the fact that I needed to be broken to heal, and how I hated that I couldn't be normal, and how I hated the fact that I'd have a long term sub and that this whole process seemed to be unending. I didn't sleep so much that night. I was angry and couldn't or didn't want to see the bigger picture. I just wanted to be normal, and I felt like that was never going to be a thing. I yelled at God that night, because it just didn't seem like he was being fair.

Three months later, I'm not yelling, but I'm still not convinced he's fair. Good, yes. Always. But fair...

Those of you who check in every once in a while may have noticed that I haven't posted much recently. I've opened blogger occasionally and have thought about posting, but everything I write feels really flat and like it just doesn't do life justice. Life is normal and cancer-free and hospital free. I go to school every day. I see people who I really like. The first week of this quarter was probably my best teaching week to date... and then some of the following weeks and days have been a real struggle of figuring out time management and creative lessons and how to deal with the fact that everyone, including me, is just pretty ready for summer. I've had students tell me I'm fat, draw pictures of my zits, tell me they love me, they hate me, and open themselves and their lives up to me in a variety of ways.

There have been some really wonderful things happening outside of school as well. Obviously, I like the no cancer thing a lot. But I've also gotten scuba certified, gone rock climbing AND rappelled down a waterfall, ran a 6k, gotten a summer job, spent time with good friends, and even gone on a few dates. If I were a t-shirt, I'd say life is good.

Three months ago, all I could think about was being broken. There was nothing else, and I think that's ok. If I had known everything that would happen in the next three months, I think I just would have been overwhelmed.

But now, I'm so thankful for the brokenness that was used to heal me. I'm thankful for normal, even when that sometimes means a lot of time spent with 12 and 13 year olds when I would much rather be sleeping. I'm thankful for all the good that was waiting for me even when I couldn't see it, and that it's so much more than my fair share. I'm so thankful that I don't get what I deserve.

Gah. I love normal.

Today in church I kept on thinking about how I never got to say goodbye to my belly button.

One day everything hurt, and then I went to the hospital, and it hasn't looked the same since.

I know it's been approximately two months since my last surgery and many more months since that day in November.

I read a book, "The Fault in our Stars," this weekend. And there's a lot of cancer in it. A lot. And there was a lot of cancer on the last Grey's Anatomy that I watched. And another teacher who goes to my church spent time in the hospital last week because her feet got burned when she walked on hot sand.

And that just happens, I guess. Bad things just happen.

It's a little terrifying, living in a world where one day you have one belly button and the next you have a scar. But it just happens. And it could have been so much worse.

That's the hardest part, I guess. Knowing that it could have been so much worse, and for so many people, it is. Knowing that your body can attack you... that cancer cells are still your cells. Knowing that you can think you're so fine, and you're just not, and that you don't always get to say goodbye.

On Facing Fear

I painted my nails tonight.

The last time I did that was November 18, 2012. I know this because it was the night of my school's Thanksgiving Dinner, the night I left early, the night I didn't sleep at all because my stomach was (literally, as I now know) in knots.

That night, I was planning on leaving to go to Utila in a week. I was excited for the upcoming break.

And sometimes it feels like that's the point where everything fell apart.

And I know it didn't really fall apart. Things have worked out and are working out and I've been back at school for three and a half weeks and they found the secret cancer and I'm going to Utila tomorrow.

But painting my toenails is scary. Wearing that dress again for the first time was scary. Planning to go to Utila is scary.

Because my brain knows how quickly things can change, how something can go wrong when you least expect it.

But I choose to paint my toenails. And plan on leaving for Utila in the morning. And to move forward, because sometimes things fall apart. But that doesn't mean they can't fall back together.

One Month Later

Today is my one month antiversary with cancer and a section of my large intestine.

It also marks 6 days back at school, 16 days from my trip to go get scuba certified, and a month from being 3/4 of the way done with my first year of teaching.

Crazy, right?

Yet, not crazy at all. in fact, today was a normal day. The best one this week, but still normal. I taught some, I planned some, and went to some meetings with staff and parents. No falls, no tears. my students even noticed that my smile was real today! I went over to a dear friend's house for delicious dinner tonight. I watched Glee with my wonderful housemates.

And I just find myself feeling so thankful for normal and good. I almost feel like there's a lack of things to blog about... and a little bit I just wanted to celebrate that feeling.

Happy Antiversary, cancer.

Being Back and making meaning

In my last post, I attempted to examine my real reasons for hating staying home. And I spent some time with God admitting motivations. Not a lot of time though, because there was work to do and websites to click through. Have to be honest about my priorities... even when it's embarrassing.

Later that day, I got a phone call (which I missed, so really a text message) saying that the doctor's note had been received and I could go back to work with no restrictions starting the next day. And I did. And I worked all three days with no major pain, and even worked a spelling bee on Saturday.

And it felt good to be back, even though my frustrating classes are still frustrating and other things about school are still frustrating. It was good to sit in my chair, to see my students and colleagues, to attempt explanations and write on the board, to laugh around other people instead of at home by myself.

And I'm not going to lie... I felt more meaningful the rest of the week. Like maybe my life is maybe worth living, maybe. And maybe I am awesome. And maybe I can find all my value in teaching. Hooray for all that!

And then on Friday I got some covenant notes from students. They wrote them in Bible Class, and, don't get me wrong, I got some very sweet ones from students who admitted to passing notes in class or talking when they aren't supposed to and they gave me suggestions for punishing them. But I also got one that said (crossed out, so this is partially my fault for making out the words below) "I don't like your class because you think you're funny but you're not," and three others that said things like "I know I don't have a bad relationship with you and I like you a lot, but I think you are the teacher who needs the most help so I'll work on making my classmates quiet and if I don't do that I can grade all the homework for you." Which is also really sweet.

But also it was a blow for my pride, and my self-esteem, and my meaningfulness. The teacher who needs the most help? Out of all the teachers? Is it really that obvious?

When I can pretend I'm able to do this on my own strength, I also pretend that I stop needing God. You'd think that secret cancer and 2 months of sitting at home would have been enough to remind me that I'm not invincible for at least a year or two, right?

But a day or two back into school and I was pretty proud of myself for my quick recovery and for being ready to take on the world again. Oh Ms. Kroon. When will you learn?

On why I hate staying home

My body woke me up at 5:45 this morning and said "Let's go to school!"

Dear body.. that's no for us. Not today anyway. "We could go visit..."

You know, I've thought about that. Yesterday it was a no because I really needed to catch up on some work. Today it's a maybe, but also I'm scared.

You see, I hate staying home. Hate it. I can say it's because all my friends are going to school, I miss my kids, and it's no fun planning for classes you don't get to teach. I can say it's about feeling ready, being ready, and hating waiting. There's lots of reasons I hate staying home.

But then what is the reason I am terrified of going to school, even to visit? Why am I nervous about going back? Why did I get butterflies when I subbed for an hour in my friend's class last week?

Maybe it comes down to this. All the reasons are effects of this one big cause.

When I don't go to school, I question what my life means. I question my value. I question who I am. And I can say that that's because I'm not doing what I love and then I can blame all those feelings on the fact that I'm waiting on a doctor's note that I have digitally but need on paper.

And the fear comes in because secretly I know that even when I am there, doing what I love, I'll still be questioning my value and who I am. And although I know that work can't and won't give me meaning... it's easy to pretend when work seems just as impossible as the peace.

My body woke me up at 5:45 this morning.

I miss school.

Great Expectations

I wonder if I should blog.

To be honest, I'm in a grumpy sort of mood. I was ok most of the day, looking at teaching ideas online, writing study guides, thinking about all the things I'd like my kids to learn next week.

I sent an e-mail to a superintendent who asked me about being considered for a job in the States. And I thought about all the lessons I looked at online. And I thought about what I'd like my kids to learn next week.

And I thought about the sub plans I'm actually writing for them, and how I can't write the things I want to write because I'm not there. And I thought of how the plans I actually write and the things I actually teach so rarely meet my own expectations, much less someone else's.

And I thought about what I would say if I were applying for jobs in the States right now... what proof I have that I'm worth hiring. And I looked at my crappy sub plans and the content that I'm trying to teach vicariously, and I hated it. And I a little bit hated me.

 And I know that as a general rule, I am my own worst critic. This is a problem that I'm pretty sure a lot of us struggle with. But I just got so frustrated that I'm not there trying to get better, that I can't motivate myself to write more detailed, explicative plans, that I'm to some extend just trying to keep my kids busy and my sub from going insane.

And I'm frustrated that I feel fine and I can't go to school, and that I feel like people are jealous and would love to get to stay home and get to sleep in and get to take time off.

And again, I wonder if I should blog.

Tonight my housemate was speaking to our community at worship night about being honest with God and yourself, and how the honesty even when it means you admit to not living up to expectations opens up communication and perhaps even allows more change to happen. Even if it means you admit to being weak. Because, in general, compared to God, you just are and that's to be expected.

So honesty. And vulnerability. And weakness. Not meeting expectations.

I'm human.

I wasn't going to blog, you know. I had closed out of the window. Until I went back because I was curious thinking about two weeks after my last surgery. And it was nice to track where I've been. High entry. Low entry. High Entry. Low entry.

Because if I only wrote on good days, or pretended that every day was good... days like these would hurt all the worse. But if they're normal and just happen sometimes... maybe it doesn't mean I'm failing at life or not meeting my strength/happiness expectations.

I was walking home from a dear friend's house today when it hit me.

I felt normal and alive and fine. Now, I've been feeling alive most days of most of my life. And normal is relative, and days when I feel normal are probably in the minority.

Still. I have had surgery twice. I had cancer and now it's gone. My scar is looking MUCH better (and less like a football) than last time.

And the end is (maybe) in sight.

And it was sunny and warm and lovely, and I felt lovely.

I miss teaching.

But today was still a good day.

I'm rusty at this

The thought of writing a non-cancerous blog thrills and excites me. Just saying.

Yet, as I stare at the blank screen, it feels a tiny bit like I have forgotten how to write about other things. What has happened today? Is there anything worth writing about? I'm clearly rusty at this.

Speaking of being rusty... today our lovely cleaning lady came. Yes, there is a woman who comes to clean my house once a week. I think that maybe the school doesn't trust us to clean out toilets and mop our floors regularly. And, as my bed usually isn't even made any day of the week but today, they're probably right.

Her son came with her today because he wasn't feeling well. Side note, he was adorable and he played with my dog and it really made me consider adopting a child. But also I think the dog is too much work, so probably that's a bad idea.

Anyway, she was in a hurry because he was with her, so I told her I would do the sink-full of dishes in the kitchen.

Now, I was pretty sure that these weren't my dishes and was pretty embarrassed that one of my housemates would be rude enough to leave a pile of dishes that large for the cleaning lady to wash. Indignantly, I began scrubbing the one dish that I knew was mine because I had used it 5 minutes earlier.

And then the cookie sheet that I thought I had maybe cleaned, but hadn't really because it was clearly still from when I made cookies on Saturday night.

And then my bowl from Sunday morning.

And the spatula from the cookies.

And the Tupperware that had clearly held my leftover Valentine's Pot Pie... consumed by me... Saturday night.

Starting to see a trend? I certainly did. There were maybe 3 dishes that weren't mine. Embarrassing.

And the worst part was how thankful she was that I had taken the time to help her by cleaning up my own mess.

It's funny, because so many time sin youth group we have talked about being Jesus to others and being servants, and one of the ways that the girls have brought up is cleaning up your room before the maid comes. It always seems like an obvious thing to me, but I smile and nod and affirm.

I have a long ways to go.

Blessings and wonderings from an imperfect, flawed, and sore kind of human

Dear Friends, Family, and Others

Initially, I am writing to inform you that I am home safe and sound and a little sore. I also wanted to inform you that reports are showing that my body is rid of cancer. So now my only excuse for being grumpy, weird, or anything else is that I'm still sore from surgery.

As many have said (and I agree with them): God is good. This outcome certainly is a blessing. But I also have to acknowledge that God isn't good because I no longer have cancer. God is good because God is good. 

One thing that I have really wrestled with throughout this process is how to approach God when things in MY life don't look good. Why does a God who is good let bad things happen? Can you still say he's good when it doesn't feel good?

Four months ago, I would have said God is good. My selfish, personal reasoning would have been he is good and this is shown through the family and friends he's put in my life. He is good and it's shown through the students that he's given me and it's shown through waterfalls and sunsets and all the good things. He's good because I see it in my circumstances.

Today... God is good. He's good because he doesn't change. He's good because he's age to age the same. He's good because he's stable and a refuge and constant and powerful and just. He's good because that's who he is. No guesswork. Not dependent on me or any other human or how our point-of-view at that particular moment or even on the state of the whole world. He's good regardless.

Maybe I already KNEW this... should have already been feeling this. Maybe. But putting what I should have known aside, I feel like it's something that God has been revealing through this process. And I feel that this development in our relationship is just as much and probably more of a blessing than being my home or not having cancer, and because of this, although I may not have worded it as eloquently as I would have liked, it's something I felt I should share. God is good.

Don't get me wrong, I'm still struggling through why the past three-ish months have happened. I'm struggling even today with how to approach a good God when it feels like I'm being kept from doing what I love. Do I feel happy? No. To my human mind, it's still frustrating. I'm frustrated with staying home and not teaching and walking like a grandma. But that doesn't change God. He's still good.

So no, I don't know all his reasons, and I don't plan to figure them all out (although it'd be nice, wouldn't it?). Maybe more will be revealed as life goes on... maybe not. But God is good.

Newsflash in a non-witty style

Ok. The real update you've been waiting for.

As most of you know, I had surgery on Thursday, which I figure is 3 and a half day ago (don't trust my mental capabilities right now-as an example, I just wrote write instead of right). I've been chilling in the hospital with my parents, who have been so great to have around, even though they get to see me in my boring, mopy times more than anyone else does. But they don't complain much, which is appreciated.

All in all, I'm pretty tired and I walk pretty slowly, but everything is progressing and I'll get to eat solid foods tomorrow morning (TOAST!). I'm also scheduled to go home tomorrow afternoon, although I'm not 100% how that will look... I'm guessing it'll be a bit later.

I'm thankful for all the visits and prayers and notes and meals and the people who have taken my parents out and for my wonderful roommates who drive back and forth and take care of everything and for my fabulous friends who make time in their crazy busy lives to be here on a regular basis and make me feel normal even though I'm really not right now.

And I'm thankful for all the messages and e-mails as well! They make me smile each time I read them, and I will definitely be responding in the next few weeks! I'm sorry for the lack of update for the past few days. I've been a bit anti-computer, especially with an IV right on the top of my hand. I'm getting better at this typing thing though.

Anyway, thank you again for all your support (and your patience with me during the last few days!)

The end is in sight! What a crazy last few months it has been.

Gah. Just thinking about it makes me tired.

Waiting

 Once again I type from a hospital bed. I am again short an indefinite amount of intestines. I am again celebrating things like walking all the way to the bathroom by myself and being able to eat and drink clear liquids.

On one hand, it's hard to believe that so much has happened (again). I had surgery, I'm into the recovery period, and I'm looking at going home in the next few days.

On the other hand, it feels like I've already done this all, and that this is just the beginning of another long process. My body protests most of it's normal movements. My hand is swollen because it hates ivs, and the other looks more like a robot hand than my own. Sub planning sounds like the absolute last thing I want to do, and I'm bored with being confined to a bed.

I think the second part is hitting me harder this time, because I just know.

But I suppose I also know that it does and will get better. I can't see the end of this yet, but it's there. I just have to keep patiently waiting.

I'm better at that some days than others. I'd like to be normal.

I guess this is when I defer to the God whose plans are bigger than my plans and whose ways are greater than my ways.

You are not alone in this

I met with my doctor today, and I have to go to the hospital tomorrow morning. My surgery will be in the afternoon on Thursday.

I don't want to go to the hospital. I don't want to be cut open. I don't want to heal.

I want to be healthy and ready to go to school tomorrow. I want to take my parents to fun places and hang out and not go to the hospital.

I don't want to be there for 5 days. I don't want to leave with a bandage on my stomach. I don't want to wake up at night and take pills. I don't want to miss school. I want to be normal.

Tonight, after a day where I was able to show my parents around a bit and feel self-sufficient as I was able to use public transportation and my mediocre Spanish to get everywhere I wanted to go and enjoy the joys of being alive and healthy and free, I am really struggling with the idea of being confined in the hospital. I'm struggling with the idea of being helpless in bed, attached to ivs and having a little intestine purse.

So I've spent some time crying. Because I am sad. And I've vented at my parents and to some really great, supportive friends both here and at home. After one of my roommates went to bed, my Dad turns to me and says "you don't find friends like that everyday."

And it made me think of Mulan... "you don't find a girl like that every dynasty." It's pretty much the same.

And, although I am sad, and although I'm not looking forward to all the things I know are waiting for me in the next week, I am thankful for the friends and family that I'm so blessed to have. It's true. You don't find friends like this everyday. But somehow, probably because God knew I need them, I have been blessed with more than a dynasty's worth of love and support.

So thankful to not be alone in this.

Matthew 9:13

"Those who are well have no need for a physician, but those who are sick"

Self-sufficiency is a common theme for me. I like to take care of myself, like to avoid weakness, like to pretend I'm good enough (although, what that means, Ido t really know)

I'm attempting to read through the Bible. This year. I'm a little behind, but I'm slowly but surely working my way through Matthew (and Genesis and Psalms).

I came to this verse and thought about how very much I have needed God these past few months. Not that I didn't need him before. But still.

I have cancer. I didn't know I was sick, don't really feel sick. I didn't know I needed anything. But now that I'm aware, it's painstakingly obvious that I can't heal myself. I just can't. There's no easy, quick solution. I have to go through the proceeds and put my life and body into the hands of a doctor who I believe is capable.

I don't often feel weak or sick in other areas of my life. I feel like a pretty good person, whatever. I feel like life is old and I'm coping. I don't need a doctor, I don't need God. After all, a perfectly healthy person doesn't need a general surgeon, right?

Hard times of any kind are not fun. And I won't pretend to have all the answers. Or any answers. It's hard, it doesn't make sense, and life would be so much easier if we weren't all so sick.

But if we didn't go through the hard times that show us or sicknesses and weaknesses and the cancer in our lives... how would we know we need a doctor? How would we know that we need surgery? How could we begin recovery?

I know I needed that fest surgery to expose this disease in my body. Maybe I also need both these surgeries to expose the diseases and dangers of my self-sufficient life.

Moving forward.

My kids complain about writing 5 paragraph essays. 300 words essays. 10 minute extended bellwork. 5 minute regular bellwork.

I just finished writing an embarrassingly long sub letter. It's embarrassing. Really. 1423 words.

Now to be fair, I've always been a bit verbose. I've been trying to cut back on that in class, but it just happens a lot. I like words. And I like saying words.

But I also feel like it's somewhat justified. There are so many little things that I don't want to leave out, little hints that should hopefully help, important procedures, the way I do things. It's my class and they're my babies, and I don't want to leave anything out. I'm going to be gone. The least I can do is leave overbearing instructions!

I remember writing classroom procedures at the beginning of the year. It took forever, mostly because I had no idea what I was doing. Writing education papers about management and crap took forever. Now, not so bad. A little bit fun, minus that part where I don't get to be there.

And I'm struck by how blessed I am to love what I do.

More blessings of the week that are directly related to said sub letter....

1) I have a sub! She is a missionary here from the States and has children at my school. I'm so thankful to officially have someone, and the fact that she is a native English Speaker and invested in the school/not going to leave after a week is such an answer to prayer. I'm hoping to meet with her and talk with her tomorrow and she might even be able to come and observe a class.

2) I have a surgery date. Next week Thursday. I can't quite process that one week from this moment I will be sleeping in a hospital bed with a tube coming out of my nose. Or that my parents will be here. Or, to be honest, that I have cancer and this is happening. But at least there's a date to start moving me toward that reality.

3) I am done with 2nd quarter. All my grades are turned in, I'm not accepting any more work, and we're ready to look forward.


This means that I'm also halfway done with my first year of teaching. That's another thing that's nearly impossible to wrap my mind around.

I can't say that it's the year I expected it to be. In a lot of ways, it's been an easier transition than I thought it would be. After all, first year teachers are supposed to hate their lives always. In other ways, it's been a lot harder and just DIFFERENT than I expected it to be. So many surprises.

Looking back on the first half, I see so much evidence that God is indeed good. Here are just a couple of the millions of examples... and those are just the ones I see.

- My worst class period became my best period
- Way less students failed this quarter than last
- Even though my students are "big" and "cool," I still get hugs and waves and hear my name said in hallways about a billion times a day
-I really enjoy the company of all of my students
- I have a great support system in this country. My friends and co-workers are beyond what I ever could have asked for
- My friends and family back home are always gracious when it takes me way too long to get back to them, and they love me through EVERYTHING
- There has been SO MUCH support throughout my surprise surgery and cancer - spiritually, emotionally, financially, everything
- I almost have enough money to pay for both of my surgeries, and I didn't even ask anyone about it
- I have grown in my faith
- I had emergency surgery, healed well, and they were able to diagnose a hard to diagnose cancer that will now be dealt with one surgery
- I don't need radiation or chemo
- The sun shines almost every day
- I'm halfway through and I still love my job.

Tomorrow is my last day for a while, and I'm bummed. I'd prefer to be there. But as I look forward through the perspective of the last 5 months (and 23 years),  there is so much proof that God is good, all the time and that all the time, God is good. When I'm bummed, when I'm angry, when I'm sad, when I'm happy... no matter my mood or awareness... God is good.

A legitimate, informative, and requestive update

I feel like a legitimate update is in order. By legitimate, I mean, not just an update about my feelings. But those are also legitimate. So I guess I mostly mean an informative update is in order. So here it is, all the Anna information that you could possibly want. And probably more.

One update is that I am caught up on grading for the first time since before my first surgery. This feel really, really good. Like, I want to dance good. But I also want to dance a lot, so that doesn't mean all that much.

Another update (and let's be serious, this is the one you're waiting for and the reason you clicked this link) is that I still don't have a surgery date scheduled.

One of the frustrating things about having a non-emergency surgery is that there are a lot of steps and paperwork involved in scheduling it, and this tends to involve a lot of waiting. And this waiting seems to be intensified when you're in a country where there's no mail and you do all the paperwork through a second party and you can't really make your own phone calls because your Spanish classes in College didn't really teach you how to navigate insurance vocabulary.

So there's no date. And my parents, who were originally coming on Tuesday, are now coming next week Monday in the hope that we will have approval and be able to schedule surgery for next week.

This is mildly annoying, as I don't REALLY want to have surgery in the first place and I don't REALLY want to go through another month of recovery, and if I have to, I'd rather just get it done now.

Still, this does seem to mean that I get another week to plan for a sub, and to mentally prepare, and to enjoy being healthy. So I'm grateful for that.

This weekend has been lovely for my mental health, both because of time spent with friends and because of all the prayers I know you've been sending. I'm also so thankful for the e-mails and messages that continue to make me feel supported and loved.

My prayer requests for the week are as follows.

1: They are interviewing a sub tomorrow. I didn't have a great experience with subs the last time I was in surgery, and I would very much appreciate it if we could pray that they will find someone who is responsible and easy to work with and ready and willing to invest in these kids for the next month.

2: Paperwork and Scheduling. I feel a little bit like I'm at the mercy of the system, but I also know that God is bigger than the system. Pray that papers get into the right hands and the hospital has a bed and operating room open at the right time and that the Doctor's schedule will coincide nicely with all of this.

3: Peace. I'd be lying if I said I'm not still struggling with the fact that I really don't want this. I don't. Pray that I'll be able to trust God and understand, not just know, that God is good all the time, and that all the time God is good.

4: My students: Pray for them as they have exams and a new quarter, and also as they will have to adjust to another sub. Pray that they'll be willing to work and learn this quarter and that they won't lose a lot with me being gone. Also prayers in general for them are always appreciated as there's always SOMETHING going on... do you remember being 12-13? Not fun.

Thank you all for all you do. You are greatly appreciated and loved.

Request

Ah, what a weird week.

For those of you who read regularly (or have seen or talked to me at all this week), you're probably aware that the beginning of this week was really rough for me. I have cancer and have to have surgery and I don't want to. That is something that hasn't changed.

But I have had such a lovely weekend. I had a sleepover, I talked to and hung out with friends, got stuff done, and have felt so peaceful. Also I have pushed it out of my mind that I have cancer and have to have surgery. It was lovely.

But this morning, I'm again faced with reality. I have to have surgery. It was supposed to be this coming week, but I still haven't been approved by the insurance. My parents were supposed to come on Tuesday, but I don't know when surgery will be. I'm not ready with sub plans and quarter plans and grading. I'm not ready for this process.

Because of all this and also because I really hate uncertainty and there's a lot of it in my life right now, I would REALLY appreciate prayers today and tomorrow. Prayers that the insurance will go through soon and there won't be any complications. Prayers that my parents can reschedule their flights and that the surgery will actually happen on the new days that they're here. Prayers that I can be peaceful without being in denial.

And prayers for everyone who is walking this journey with me. I'm praying for you, too.

Ten stitches up the mountain, and then ten back down

I'm tired this week. There are about a billion projects and quizzes and papers to grade as well as a new quarter to plan and other life preparations to worry about. Also, I have to do things like feed myself, shower, attempt to keep my room from getting too disastrous before my parents come, and spend time communicating with the people I like so I don't go completely insane.

After baking some coffee cake for bible study tonight, I took a nap for longer than I wanted to. I could have continued sleeping until the inevitable alarm will ring at 5:30 tomorrow morning. I'm tired.

But it's not just physical. I'm emotionally tired this week. It's been a struggle to stay positive in both my personal and professional life. Being happy all day wears me out, because I don't always really feel it. Sometimes I do. But other times, hanging out with 11-13 year olds when you're already a little worn out and disenchanted with life is not actually the easiest thing in the world to do. Still, they always manage to redeem themselves.

One of my students told me that she knew I was having a bad day because my eyes didn't sparkle. She said I seemed mostly the same except for that. I'm always amazed and a little bit frightened by how much they notice and how well they read me. I'm glad I don't usually realize how much I'm being looked at. And also I hope I don't do TOO many embarrassing things. Whoops.

The last type of exhaustion I feel is spiritual. I'm not sure what to say to the good God who has his hand on my life right now. I'm not sure how to be positive about my trust when things don't make sense. I'm not sure how to approach the God who can do miracles. I'm tired. And I'm thankful for passages like Matthew 26:38-43 where even Jesus seems a bit exhausted and down. Because that's what I've got right now.

Today in 6th grade we talked about the symbolism of the blanket Esperanza crotchets in Esperanza Rising (ER for short). We determined that life has its ups and downs for each of us, and that some times you just need to keep going. We talked about the importance of hope (Esperanza is Spanish for hope). We even talked a little bit about despair.

Maybe I'm heading down the mountain right now. But I have hope that I'll be heading back up again soon.

Things unseen

I get really frustrated with my first class of the day. They talk a lot and fail quizzes and don't turn things in and get on my nerves. So what I'm basically saying is that they are 7th graders. Gah. I'm always so grumpy by the time I get done with them and then my mood gradually improves as I hang out with the rest of my classes for the rest of the day.

Except today my mood didn't really get better. I'm wallowing. A lot. And there's a part of me that is loving it.

You see, feeling miserable and entitled to feel miserable is a little like watching trashy tv. You know it's really not the best use of your time and that there is no point and its a bad choice, but something about it just feels so good in a horrible way.

So I wallow. And then I wallow some more.

Why blog on days like this? Because these are the type of days that I look back to old posts to reassure myself that I've been here before, and I've dealt with it and moved on and things are never as bad as I think they are.

Tonight got an email from a student in that first class asking about some extra credit stuff and after I replied, she sent me another email apologizing for herself and her class and signed it "love you."

I read some really thoughtful journal entries. I figured out better ways to teach some sentence problems today.

Will I wallow tomorrow? Maybe. Will I wallow forever? Nah. History and even today says the good in life is still there even when I can't (read: choose not to) see it. Also wallowing is exhausting.

Being certain of what we hope for

Today in Church my Pastor mentioned Super Bowl Sunday.

My first thought? I should have some people over. I should cook for them and take care of them and be happy that they are around me.

Then he said the date. February 2, a day that, if everything goes according to plan, I will be in the hospital. Being cared for. No party.

I appreciate the support. Really, truly I do. I know I wouldn't get through a day without it. And I know that God has a plan and he's going to work things out according to his purpose. I believe that with all my heart.

But even with that knowledge in my head and heart... this is hard. It's hard to feel so dependent and weak. It's hard to deal with that fact that I'm going to spend more time in the hospital, to have more days where I can't even drink water or eat any food. It's hard to think about having a tube going out my nose and and iv in my arm and a little purse coming out of my side to hold my intestine juice.

It's hard to do this again.

I left church today because it was too much to handle. I've shed more tears today than I have in months.

I don't want to do this. I don't want to be this. It feels unfair. It feels like God is not being good.

And I feel so silly being open about it. And I feel guilty being open about the parts of this that suck, because it makes me feel weaker and more dependent. But then again, I know it's real, and if it were anyone but myself, I would want them to express these feelings to because they are human.

The doubt is human, the fear is human. The sadness and anger about life not going as planned... it's human. Hiding dark moments doesn't mean they are not there, and we all go through them. I go through them.

I know there's still light. I know that there is an end to this. I know that God is good.

But, despite that knowledge, when I'm honest, I don't feel or see it today. Today felt so very dark.

On being blessed

I got a letter from a student this week telling about an experience his or her family had with cancer. A favorite paragraph says this: "I'm writing this to you because I know that you must be going through a really hard time, but don't lose faith in God. He can do anything, even if it seems impossible. When my sister's results after surgery came negative of cancer, doctors could not explain it. Don't lose faith in God; he has control of your LIFE. Don't worry he will be with you. Not even doctors can tell you what will happen to you. If HE made a miracle in my sister, He can make it with you too. Only God knows when you will have to go."

Another part says "God made her go through this so that she was able to testify about God's power."

I'm so humbled and blessed by this. Also I wish I could take credit for her nearly impeccable writing (there were absolutely NO editing in there by me!), but... that's not me.

That's not me. It's a phrase I feel like I need to say all the time lately. "You seem so strong..." Oh... that's not me. "I don't know how you're able to be so lighthearted..." Oh... that's not me either. That's the prayers and God and everyone who is there for me all the time picking up all my weaknesses. That's not me.

I think that I may have mentioned once or twice that leaning on other people is extremely hard for me. I like to be independent and strong and to not need people.

But, I do. All the time. Especially now. And it drives me NUTS sometimes and I just want to stop dealing with everything. Sometimes I get frustrated, and sometimes I get sad. And sometimes I just want to stop feeling. And also I get a little dramatic, like that last sentence, which isn't even really a thing.

I think that has to be ok with a God who intimately knows how human I am. I mean, he can do anything. He's got control of this situation, and he knows what he's doing. All I can do is keep moving forward with his help and testify about his power.

Warning: This is a little bit heavy

It's friday.

As I type this, my eyes feel pretty droopy. It's been a long week, and, as a result of my flu episode at the end of last week, I haven't had any coffee. At all.

Being back at school is enough to make it feel like a long, long (but good!) week, but, on top of that, this week has also involved a trip to the hospital every day. Thankfully, I think that the one this afternoon was the last one for the week and I'll be able to enjoy a quieter Saturday and Sunday. Or a Saturday and Sunday of trying to get caught up. Either will be good for my mental health, so I'm not too worried.

Any of you whom I haven't talked to this week might be wondering exactly why I am spending so much time at the hospital, especially when I'm obviously healthy enough to be teaching.

To be honest, I haven't been quite sure how to break it to you. Also, I just haven't had the energy to do so. But, after a good doctors visit today to finish off the week, it seems like it's just time. So here we go.

After my surgery in November (see Thanks for an explanation if you missed it), my surgeon sent my intestine and appendix in for a biopsy. This is standard procedure and they weren't too worried about it.

On Monday, I got a phone call, text, and e-mail from my surgeon saying he had my biopsy results and I needed to get in to see him that afternoon. Needless to say, I was a little freaked out, but I managed to teach the rest of the day and was able to get a ride with to the hospital with a dedicated (and appreciated!) group of friends.

My biopsy results for the intestine were exactly as expected. It was just an internal hernia. But my appendix, which was only taken out because it was inflamed but had no part in causing the initial surgery, came back with somewhat surprising results. It turns out that I had cancer in my appendix all the way up to where it attaches to my large intestine. Since that meeting, I have had tests to make sure that it has not spread to any other organs, and it has not.

This particular type of cancer is not aggressive and doesn't usually show up until it's discovered in another procedure. In my case, it was a blessing that they found it because of this random unrelated surgery and we will be able to take care of it quickly with another surgery. God is good.

There are still decisions to be made, and another surgery very similar to my last one is in the relatively near future. I feel great, although this week has worn me out quite a bit.

But that is mostly because I finally got to teach full days on Monday, Thursday, and Friday! It was so wonderful to be back with my precious people for the first time in almost two months! We sang, we danced, and by we, I mean me... but that's ok. I'm looking forward to being able to be with them again all next week. Such a good life. :-)

Again, I'm thankful for all the support and prayers. I'm behind on correspondence right now, but feel free to e-mail or message me if you have questions, and I promise I'll get back to you eventually. 

I promise, I still exist

So it's been a while. Let me think about what has passed. A few days back at school before break which were exhausting but made me feel more like me than I had in a really long while. Christmas Break to heal and pull myself together by doing nothing but spend time with people who I really really love. It may sound boring that I spent most days around a kitchen table, but it was exactly what I needed emotionally, physically, and mentally. Seeing people in Grand Rapids... it all seemed idyllic. Like, life isn't supposed to be this wonderful, but somehow is was. Is, I suppose.

And now 3 days back in Honduras. It seems like a lot longer, really, although I haven't finished unpacking. There's been a whirlwind of getting back to school, seeing the people I love here, and some impromptu doctor's appointments. Although, those things are pretty connected. Except maybe the doctor's appointments. Except people I love were still there. So still connected. But now I'm sidetracked.  Anyway. It's hard to believe that 3 days ago at this time, I was sick in an Atlanta hotel. In fact, I really can't believe it.

But then I can, because life seems to be often unbelievable. See paragraph one.

One thing that I've been thinking about and learning about while here is recognizing how much I do need those people around me... either near or far away. I still struggle with feeling exceptionally guilty asking people to worry, or taking their time, or talking too much about me (although anyone who spent time with me over break or ever knows I still do that all the time, even though I probably regret it later).

I've gotten a lot of compliments on how strong I am recently. This seems so silly to me, because in my head (and I'm pretty sure reality, although I'm also coming to terms that Anna-world does sometimes differ from the real world) I'm not that strong of a person. I struggle with doubts all the time. A strong person in my opinion is sure of themselves and confident, and that's not me.

But then I look, and maybe I've been acting strong. And I feel pretty strong right now. And I think it's mostly all the fabulous people all over the place that I have supporting me and praying for me and loving on me even though I talk to much and maybe make them worry a little bit.

Ya'll are the best, yos.