Save Me From Myself | A Song By Me

I’m lost in a world of darkness

I’m filled with a load of guilt

I cry out to you full of sadness

Wishing the pain wouldn’t hurt

So I cry, save me from myself.

You are all I need.

Save me from myself.

This is my desperate plea.

There’s only one thing I ask

Only one thing I need

It’s to feel Your love…

And to know Your peace

I know of Your love and mercy

I know Your unending grace

But the only thing I long to feel

Is the warmth of Your embrace.

So I cry, save me from myself.

You are all I need.

Save me from myself.

This is my desperate plea.

There’s only one thing I ask

Only one thing I need

It’s to feel Your love…

And to know Your peace

Will I ever know the depths of Your love?

And can You truly satisfy?

The only thing left is for me to let go

And surrender to You my life.

So, save me from myself, my Master.

You Lord, are all I need.

Save me from myself, my Master.

This is my desperate plea.

There’s only one thing I can ask, Lord Jesus.

It’s the only thing I need.

It’s to feel Your love…

And to know Your peace.

Being single in a boyfriend/girlfriend world: Part 1

What do you think is the most over used word in the English language?

Want a hint? It's 4 letters.

We use it for everything.

It can be the key to a relationship.

It can also be the way to describe the way you feel about a pair of shoes.

That's right. L O V E.

Lets play a game that I'm sure you all have at least once in your life.

Which sentence does not belong?

I love that car! I love this food! I love country music! I'm in love with Brad Pitt! I love Jesus!

That's a tough one.

(not)

3 years ago, I started to write my thoughts about love and what it really is. The longer I went, the harder it got. Did I actually learn anything? Sure. But I became sick of the concept that everybody loves everything!

Think about it. If everybody loves everything, then everybody loves nothing. Because it would become obsolete. So there must be something special about love that I've been missing.

That's been my thought for quite a while.

Being a wedding photographer, I get to meet a lot of people who are "in love."

I read a photographers blog once about how she was always being asked how she liked being single when she was always meeting new people who have these incredible love stories. Her response was that she was just getting more experience so that she would know the in's and out's of relationships so that she would be ready when the time came. And that she could really tell a difference in those couples who had God at the center of their lives.

I've already noticed this. And I've only done 3 weddings.

You can tell when people are truly happy. And when they are just happy because they need to be. (which sometimes actually turns into unhappiness on their wedding day...just saying.)

Those couples who are really happy, usually love God and have put Him first in everything. He's their number one. Not their spouse. And they know that only He can keep their relationship in a lasting position.

The question to ask them would be: How do you love God first, and then love your husband/wife?

And then as a single person, what should I be doing to prepare myself for the future?

...to be continued.

You Are More

There's a girl in the corner

With tear stains on her eyes

From the places she's wandered

And the shame she can't hide

She says, "How did I get here?

I'm not who I once was.

And I'm crippled by the fear

That I've fallen too far to love"

But don't you know who you are, 

What's been done for you?

Yeah don't you know who you are?

You are more

Well she tries to believe it

That she's been given new life

But she can't shake the feeling

That it's not true tonight

She knows all the answers

And she's rehearsed all the lines

And so she'll try to do better

But then she's too weak to try

But don't you know who you are?

You are more

'Cause this is not about what you've done, 

But what's been done for you.

This is not about where you've been, 

But where your brokenness brings you to

This is not about what you feel, 

But what He felt to forgive you, 

And what He felt to make you loved. 

You are more

Do you ever feel like a song that you stumble upon was written about you?

Well I do with this song.

Sung by Tenth Avenue North, You Are More has become one of my favorite songs.

To be honest, I really got annoyed by this song because KLOVE played it on the radio over and over again until I knew it by heart, but I had no clue what they were singing. It was just another tune.

When I started listening to country music and pop/hiphop a lot, I lost touch with a lot of the Christian music I once loved.

And I'll be the first to tell you, I am FAR from perfect.

But when I heard this on the radio recently, and I actually listened to what the words were instead of singing along mindlessly, I was surprised.

You see, there are many many things people don't know about me. And it's going to stay that way. But let's just say for a moment that those lines that I "bolded" in the lyrics above were actually spoken by me. What would you do?

If someone you know, (and I can guarantee there is more than one person) thinks like that, the best thing you can do is try to prove them wrong. Tell them they are more than the choices they have made. Tell them they are more than the entire SUM of their past mistakes. Tell them they are more than the problems that they may create. And then, point them to Jesus. Show them how they have been remade. Because until that person comes to that realization, life just heads downhill. You can't change. You can't move. You just slowly die.

So what are you waiting for?

Be Still And Know That I Am God.

I miss Deep Creek Lake so much. I can't wait to be there, my home on Friday, because that is my home. Home is where the heart is. And my heart is indeed located near a small cottage, only a few feet from the water, back roads surrounded by farms and fields, with only the wind and the sound of the water to echo. No distractions of city life. No internet or phones, nothing.

How do I love this place then you ask, without outside communication? Allow me to tell you. It's not about keeping in contact with the world. It's about enjoying life and the places that God has given to us. If you don’t take time to feel the wind blow in your face, gaze at the stars for hours at night, listen to the sound of tree frogs and crickets, hear to the crackle of the dead leaves being stepped on in the woods, or feel the water splash on your feet, then what are you doing with your life?

It’s not just the place though. The people there are incredibly friendly and sweet. If you ask around the people who were here a few generations before us, you’ll find out that our grandparents, and some of our parents walked the streets at night without fear. They didn’t worry about being kidnapped or raped by some random stranger. That was because everyone knew basically everyone in the town. There was this thing called TRUST. Have you ever heard of it? Well today it’s gone.

At Deep Creek, even though it is full of many rich and snotty people, it is more populated by those who know that they only are able to be there because of their former relatives who have passed on and left their plot of land and house to their children and grandchildren. My great grandfather purchased our property in 1952 for roughly $5000. Today, it is worth nearly one million dollars. No, we don’t have a fancy 3 story house with huge windows and wrap around decks like many of the people down there do. We don’t have a huge yard or an amazing living room furnished with leather couches and a flat screen 50” television. We don’t have internet as I already mentioned. The only phone service we have is a landline that you can only receive calls on, or call an emergency number on. There is no cellular service around.

People ask me all the time at school if they can text me. And of course, I say no because I do not have texting. Mostly because I am on my work’s cell phone plan, and they only pay for the simple cell with calls only. Therefore I do not have texting. And once I have enough money to get my own phone, I honestly do not want it anyhow. It’s just a distraction. You can Facebook me, or call me. I don’t need my pocket vibrating all day long. I know if I had texting I wouldn’t be able to resist replying right away. And then my summer would be ruined when I remembered that I had no service at Deep Creek. So I’m going to avoid it as long as possible.

There is so much more to life than sitting in front of a computer. One thing that makes me love photography so much is the fact that I get to be outdoors. Rain or shine, a photo shoot will go on. And I can enjoy looking for details, lighting, and locations. It is amazing what beauty you can find when you take time to look for it.

Yes, I know I am one to talk when it comes to computers. Some of you may say I am addicted to Facebook, and you’re right. I’m also addicted to editing my pictures. Now that I have a Mac and Photoshop CS5 Extended Version, I am quite often to be found in my room on my computer, working or playing around with effects. It is experience, but there is a time when I need to give my eyes a rest. I stare at the computer all day at work, and then I come home and stare at my Mac or my laptop. Some days, the only break time I give myself is to eat and sleep. Yes, I know this will affect me as I get older, especially my eyesight. And I’m going to have to change. And summer is my break time.

A few things I am really looking forward to this summer are kayaking, swimming, jogging, star gazing, canoeing, photography drives, waterfalls, hiking, etc. You get the point.

Some of you don’t know this, but I absolutely hate sand. I can’t stand it. I am not a fan of the beach. I love the fact that at my home, there are rocks and fresh water. It doesn’t get too hot. I don’t have to worry about burning my feet on the sand. I can wake up and go down and just sit on the dock in peace before anyone wakes up and before any boaters get the notion to disrupt the glassy surface of the water. It’s the perfect place to think and relax. Not to mention breathe in fresh air that just seems to sweep off the water into your nostrils. It’s glorious.

Needless to say, I am greatly looking forward to my weekends this summer. Even though I know I will be spending many of them at home due to weddings I will be photographing and such. I plan on spending as much time as I can at Deep Creek, and everything else will fall into place.

Slow Down

Stressed out, running late, racing down the interstate
Spilled hot coffee, down the front of my jeans
It's work, work, pay the rent, money and my time's spent
Not a minute left for me to be me

Been going like nothing can wait
I gotta get my priorities straight

I need to live a little, have some fun
Take some time, waste it on number one
Find a girl that brings my whole world to a stop
Live a little, love a lot

I've been thinking...(I know..now is the time for you to gasp and say "NO WAY!") and I think that the more life goes on, the faster it goes, and the more stressed out everyone becomes. But I am just wondering, why do we all let that happen? Why don't we take the time to live a little and love a lot?

We live in a world of fast paced chaos. We have fast food, and we get upset when we have to wait 3 minutes at a drive through. We all have cars, and therefore we never even think about the people around us and around the world who have to walk places. We have high speed internet, and God forbid if it ever gets slow, because we might have a heart attack if it does. We have self checkouts at the grocery store, because the lady at the register was getting too slow for us. The list goes on.

What I really hate about living in the city is that no one takes time to do anything out of the normal. I mean, what did people who didn't have the internet, cell phones and cars do before us? FUN THINGS! They went fishing, hiking, rock climbing, swimming, boating, kayaking, exploring, walking, they went OUTSIDE to find something to do. I wonder again and again, what is going to happen to us all who have jobs that are indoors. If we never are exposed to the sunlight, we may very well shrivel up. (haha)

 

Yeah, I know you may think it's weird that I like the song above and all, but I do. (you should know that I'm a country girl by now.)

I would like to go on an adventure. Just get in my car (with my camera) and drive. I want to experience new things. I want to get out and see the world. There is so much of it to be seen. Now of course, nothing is possible without money. That's always the dilemma. But if everyone did this in the world, there would be no need for money! And yes, I know there are people who are perfectly content in their own little world. But I am not that kind of person.

Since I am a legal adult now..(oh yeah!) I am going to take road trips several times a year. :) Yeah..I know that won't bode to well with my family, but so what? I can't stand the fast pace of life anymore. It's time to

 

S          L          O          W           D          O          W          N

Breathe in and out SLOWLY. Okay, did you get that? Take the time today to slow down and just THINK about some things before rushing right into them. You'll be glad you did.

Hello World by Lady Antebellum

Traffic crawls, cell phone calls
Talk video screams at me
Through my tinted window I see
A little girl, rust red minivan
She's got chocolate on her face
Got little hands, and she waves at me
Yeah, she smiles at me

Hello world
How've you been?
Good to see you, my old friend
Sometimes I feel cold as steel
Broken like I'm never gonna heal
I see a light, a little hope
In a little girl
Hello world

Every day I drive by
A little white church
It's got these little white crosses
Like angels in the yard
Maybe I should stop on in
Say a prayer
Maybe talk to God
Like he is here
Oh I know he is there
Yeah, I know he's there

Hello world
How've you been?
Good to see you, my old friend
Sometimes I feel as cold as steel
And broken like I'm never going to heal
I see a light
A little grace, a little faith unfurled
Hello world

Sometimes I forget what living's for
And I hear my life through my front door
And I'll be there
Oh I'm home again
I see my wife, little boy, little girl
Hello world
Hello world

All the empty disappears
I remember why I'm here
Just surrender and believe
I fall down on my knees
Oh hello world
Hello world
Hello world 

When I first heard this song play a few weeks ago on the radio, I fell in love with it. And I thought instant...wow I really like "Need You Now" by Lady Antebellum as well as "I Run To You." My brain went "Hmm...maybe I should buy their cd!" So I did. :)

And I just saw the music video for "Hello World" the other day, and it got me thinking. What if it's true that we all can change the world with just a simple smile and a wave, to/from a stranger? I know attitude has a lot to do with the way we are being affected by the world, but what if we purposely just took one moment a day to smile and wave at someone?

The music to this song is so soothing and wonderful, I could listen to it all day long. But the words are what make this song so amazing.

The video is below, but before you watch it, think about today. How can you change someones life?


Maybe I should stop on in
Say a prayer
Maybe talk to God
Like He is here
Oh I know He is there
Yeah, I know He's there

 

There are so many opportunities out there. Use your life as a gift that you have been given and spread your joy to someone else. (and yes, you don't actually have to be happy or joyful to smile) So do it. Make a difference. And maybe...just maybe, save a life.

This girl's gone country

So if you're friends with me on facebook, you probably know that I like music. Country music especially. I can't recall a time where I didn't like country music, but there was a gap where I didn't listen to any of it. Mostly because I was never in control of the radio. But having my own car has major advantages, including sole control of the radio! :)

When I was younger, we listened to country a lot in the car. And that's where my love for it came from. Then we went through the no radio stage, and now my family is into the k-love stage. But since I drive to school 3 days a week, and to work, I have control of the radio.

I am a HUGE fan of Rascal Flatts and Keith Urban. (and Taylor Swift...but everyone says she doesn't count anymore..>.<) So since I don't actually own any Keith Urban (he is permanently embedded on my youtube account) and my birthday is coming soon...HINT HINT. Okay..anyways. Oh, I can't forget Tim McGraw and Brad Paisley! Classic country music! So here are some of my favorites.

And I know I didn't mention Josh Turner, but this is absolutely my favorite country song EVER.

Debating :)

Romans 5:12-21

  ¹² Therefore, just as sin entered the world through one man, and death through sin, and in this way death came to all people, because all sinned—

  

¹³ To be sure, sin was in the world before the law was given, but sin is not charged against anyone’s account where there is no law.  

¹⁴ Nevertheless, death reigned from the time of Adam to the time of Moses, even over those who did not sin by breaking a command, as did Adam, who is a pattern of the one to come.

 ¹⁵ But the gift is not like the trespass. For if the many died by the trespass of the one man, how much more did God’s grace and the gift that came by the grace of the one man, Jesus Christ, overflow to the many!  

¹⁶ Nor can the gift of God be compared with the result of one man’s sin: The judgment followed one sin and brought condemnation, but the gift followed many trespasses and brought justification.  

¹⁷ For if, by the trespass of the one man, death reigned through that one man, how much more will those who receive God’s abundant provision of grace and of the gift of righteousness reign in life through the one man, Jesus Christ!

¹⁸ Consequently, just as one trespass resulted in condemnation for all people, so also one righteous act resulted in justification and life for all people.  

¹⁹ For just as through the disobedience of the one man the many were made sinners, so also through the obedience of the one man the many will be made righteous.

 ²⁰ The law was brought in so that the trespass might increase. But where sin increased, grace increased all the more, 

²¹ so that, just as sin reigned in death, so also grace might reign through righteousness to bring eternal life through Jesus Christ our Lord. 

I've been reading through Romans for quite some time now, and I learn something new every time I read a chapter. Now you have to understand, since I am only in chapter 5, I read the same chapters over and over again. And yes, I struggle to read my Bible consistently just like everyone else out there. I usually fall asleep when I read things, so that's part of the reason. But that is no excuse nonetheless.

So when I turned to Romans 5 a few days ago, I realized that I had memorized many of the beginning verses from AWANA. When I read something that is already in my brain, I tend to not pay as much attention to it. Even though those verses often come back to me during the day and I am able to apply them.

In verse 15, it says "But the gift [salvation through grace] is not like the trespass." I take this to mean that since vs. 12 says "Death came upon ALL people, so ALL have sinned," that the gift does not go to ALL people. And that is clearly obvious in this world, because we all know people who are on their way to hell, or have gone to hell. The gift is not like the sin passing upon all men. The gift is given to "The Many." Now there are two different parts of "The Many" in verse 15. There are "the many" who died because of their sin and there are "the many" who were granted eternal life.

I've been debating the issue of predestination with a friend of mine for a while now. I believe that from the scripture we know for a fact that God knows everything. But does He know everything, and plan everything? I don't see how He cannot. But God has nothing to do with sin, so I think He presents us with the choice to sin or not and leaves that up to us. And this makes sense to me because how else did Adam and Eve sin? I have a hard time believing God would have planned someone to sin because He Himself is sinless. So I think we have the choice to sin or not. However, you cannot convince someone of the fact that they were chosen and they didn't have a choice to be saved or not because then they argue back, like he did, that no one else in the world has a chance. Yes, that's true. But we don't know who is chosen or not. We can only be accountable for ourselves. And we are commanded to spread the gospel.

Then he argued, how can we even tell someone about Christ if they are not chosen? But it's not up to us to decide that. People will reject the truth either way, if you believe in predestination or not. And once again, we cannot know who are the elect of God. We can only judge that for ourselves.

The issue of free will is also another thing we like to discuss. And I have also debated this with another friend of mine as well. She believes that if we have no free will, and that if God planned out our actions, then we are just a programmed robot and as she said "I don't think God would do that. That is very unloving." Well the more I learn about God, the more I find how He is NOT ALL ABOUT LOVE. We just like to think He is because that's what gets people attracted to Him. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying that God is not loving, because if he wasn't then there would be no hope for us. But God is also a just God, and He is jealous for his people. He gets angry when we sin.

"One righteous act resulted in justification and life for all people." I was talking to ANOTHER friend the other day who I met in my portrait photography class. He saw my shirt from the creation museum and started asking me questions about what I believe in and such. It turns out he is a Christian, and before he came to WCCC he actually went to Bible college. I found that incredibly interesting and I asked him why he was coming to WCCC for photography when he already had a bachelors degree in computer networking and theology. His answer was a bit strange, and later on that night on facebook, he told me his story. But anyways, we talked about church and things like that, and the issue of being a calvinist came up. He told me that he agreed with all the points but one: Limited Atonement. Which is the belief that Christ only died for those who would eventually be saved, and not for the whole world. So we talked about that and he tried to defend why he thought that was wrong, and I tried to share why I thought it was correct. In the end, he made a pause in the chat line and said "Ellen, I'm terribly sorry for doing this to you. But I was playing the devils advocate there. I do believe in limited atonement and I was just testing you because I believe we should always be ready to give an answer for the things we believe." I was in shock. But I was happy at the same time. It was good that he did that to me. He was making me think about what I really believe.

In the end, I am always glad to debate things, because it makes me stronger in my faith and it helps me to see where other people are coming from. AND it makes me want to read my Bible more. I want to know what I believe, not what I've been taught to believe. And that's the best way to find out!

My Battle Part 6

I wasn't sure where I was. I didn't know what was going on. I couldn't see. Everything was a big blur. I vaguely remember seeing what looked to be a clock on the other side of the room (I was far sighted, go figure), but I couldn't make out the time. Some time must have passed before I was aware of where I was. My vision was slowly coming back. I was aware that I was extremely thirsty, and that there was a slight amount of pain on the right side of my head.

As I came to, I realized there was a nurse sitting next to me. She saw that I was awake and immediately asked me how I felt. Needless to say, my brain went into panic mode at that moment and I started freaking out. Right then the pain got worse and I just started crying. I sort of remember asking her to get my parents. She said she would do that in a few minutes once she was sure I was doing ok. I started to get hysterical. I told her I really needed something to drink. She offered me pepsi, apple juice, or ginger ale. I asked her for water. I never really drank soda, and I hated apple juice. She said she couldn't get any water, so I told her ginger ale then.

The pain was slowly getting worse, and so she gave me some morphine through my iv. NOT a good decision since I had an empty stomach. She got me my ginger ale and told me to sip it slowly. I did, and by that time, Mom and Dad came into the room. Dad asked me if I felt any relief at all since Dr. Pollock had told him there was so much pressure, that when he cut me open, there was a geyser of water squirting out of my head. And he apparently said that had not happened before to any of his patients. I told him that I could definitely feel relief of pressure, but the pain of the stitches (and the hole in my skull) hurt really badly. All of a sudden, I felt my stomach give way and I puked all over myself. I had worked myself up, and the morphine didn't help.

Needless to say, when that happened, a band of nurses swarmed around me, trying to clean up my puke, and keep me comfortable and not moving.  Pain surged through my head, caused by the exertion of strength and muscle movement I had just experienced. (you don't realize how much your scalp actually moves until it has 12 stitches in it) My blood was pumping, and my head started pounding. I almost immediately wanted to take back what I had just said and instead say There's no way the pain is gone dad! But I was too scared to say anything. I just wanted to sleep, and maybe when I wake up it will be gone.

They made me stay in the ICU for a bit longer til they were sure I wasn't going to puke again. Then they wheeled me into the elevator and took me upstairs to my room. Once we reached the room, they said they were going to lower the bed, and I would have to roll over onto the bed in the room. Piece of cake right? No, not really. I could barely move. The after effects of anesthesia are horrible. I tried to sit up and I fell right back down. So I tried to pull myself over onto the bed. I don't know how I did it. The nurses may have helped me. I just remember as soon as I got over onto the bed, they put this finger monitor on me that had a glowing red light in it. (basically a pulse detector) I was extremely exhausted, and hungry. I asked for food, but of course, when you vomit in a hospital, food is the last thing you can even look at. They said I had to wait. So I did, and I quickly got settled and fell asleep.

I don't remember how much time had passed before I woke up to my nurse checking my temperature and blood pressure. It was now dark outside, so possibly 3 hours I had been asleep. It was then that I realized there was another patient in my room on the other side of the curtain. It was a girl who looked to be about the same age as me. Her and her mother were playing cards. A few minutes later, my parents came into my room. I guess they had been with the doctor then went to eat dinner. They said that everything went great and I should be able to go home in the morning if everything went fine that night.

Just then, our pastor at the time, Pete Hipple, walked in the door with balloons and a giant stuffed dog. He wanted to know how I was and to let me know that everyone at FBC was praying for me. Let me tell you, that dog did NOT leave my side for the next few weeks. I still have her. She's so soft and cuddly. (yeah, that may be childish, but that dog means so much to me, and I don't let anyone touch her..haha)

Mom left not long after. They said only one parent could stay, so Dad stayed with me. I remember turning on the tv and watching Skylark that night. I'm pretty sure I fell asleep not long after it started though, and of course I woke up again to a nurse coming to check my vitals. And that time, I asked her for food and she said I could have jello and crackers. Yay! Except when she brought me it, it was green disgusting lime jello. So I vaguely remember taking a few slurps and then resorting to the crackers.

Dr. Pollock and a few of his assistants came to check on me periodically during the night. They shined a flashlight in my eyes, and asked me to use my arms, legs, fingers and toes. Then they shined a light on my head, and so on.

Note: Some of the things that went on during the night, I am choosing to leave out of this story. Please do not ask me about it. I try to block some things out.

I remember that the girl in the bed next to me also had her doctor check in on her several times. I really couldn't hear what they were saying, so I didn't know what was wrong with her. I just knew she didn't sleep nearly as much as I did. And she was happy too.

In the middle of the night, one of the monitors I was hooked up to started beeping extremely loud. I didn't know what was wrong. And no one ever came to check on me. After about what seemed like 15 minutes, it finally stopped beeping, and I was able to go back to sleep.

The next time I woke, it was morning, light was shining through the window, and the hustle and bustle of a hospital kicked into place. People were running from room to room, checking on each of the patients. There was a note from my nurse on the white board telling me to call downstairs and order breakfast. However, I couldn't move. I was hooked up to a billion monitors, an iv, and the fact that I still wasn't used to the after effects of anesthesia. So Dad called down and ordered. I remember having pancakes, english muffins, and eggs for breakfast. I was starving.

After breakfast, a new nurse came in. She had curly brown hair and to me, she was gorgeous. She also looked extremely young compared to all the other nurses in the night. She told me that she was going to give me some interesting liquid through my iv. It took a while before she found the right equipment, but she did it, and I felt basically nothing. When she was done, she removed the iv, and it was the first time I looked at my hand. It turned green. I was bruised. It hurt for the next few days.

Then, I was told to get up and try to walk around. That was probably the most difficult task I experienced that day. My legs did not want to move, and I had no energy whatsoever. It started off that I was extremely dizzy, and I just had to stand there for a while waiting for the room to stop spinning. It was noon before I was able to walk around and feel good enough for them to let me go home. They wheeled me downstairs with my dog, who I had affectionately named Josephine, and my balloons. Dad went to get the car in the parking garage, and drove it to the front door. I climbed into the backseat (since I was still 12) and I got my first breath of fresh air. I was ready for my head to start pounding like it normally did. But it didn't happen. :) I was ecstatic. Now if only the pain of the stitches would go away, I'd feel absolutely wonderful.

It was a long drive home, but when we got home, I got out of the car, and walked up the stairs by myself to say hello to my family. They were like "Ellen! Glad you're here! Now go get in bed!" What a welcome. lol But that is exactly what I did. Mom had gone out and bought me a few welcome home, get better soon presents. One thing I remember was these wall stickers of tigger and pooh with butterflies and flowers. I put them on my wall right beside my bed, and they are still there today. (you may have seen them in some of my profile pictures...since I am typically sitting on my bed when I take them. lol) I don't know if I'll ever take them down, although I have been tempted to lately. Simply because I am a college student now, and my room looks fairly childish. But no, I'm not going to remove them. They serve as a reminder to me, how wonderfully blessed I am.

The day I came home, was also Emma's birthday. I didn't want to ruin for her, and I certainly didn't think it was right for me to be getting gifts on her birthday. So I gave her something...I don't remember what, but I did.

I was asleep in my bed when there was a knock on my bedroom door. My Aunt and Uncle came in with a bouquet of 50 roses!!!!! And a bunch of cards and pictures from my cousins. If you didn't already know, there is nothing I love more than receiving flowers from someone. I LOVE flowers. <3 <3 <3 And that many roses made my day wonderful. They were all different pastel colors. GORGEOUS!!!

They left, and I quickly fell back asleep. I woke up around dinner time, and I was ready to eat. We had spaghetti that night. And I remember being so exhausted after dinner, and so in pain, that I needed something for my pain. They had given me a prescription for Oxycodine (I think) when I left the hospital. I was pretty sure I needed it. So I believe that Dad went to target to have it filled. When he brought it home, it said on the outside "Do not take if you have any type of head trauma." What the heck??? Why would they give me that? Do they want me to die? So I didn't take it. We had some regular Tylenol laying around and I took some of that. As the night went on, I developed a bit of a fever. They said if it reached 101, I had to go back to the hospital. And I can remember mom taking my temp and it was 101.1. But I REFUSED to go back. So I just went to sleep.

When I woke up the next day, I was fine. Still in a ton of pain. I wanted to get a bath so bad. I felt disgusting. But I was told I couldn't get my head wet for 5 days. I had iodine all over my head. I looked and smelled horrible. But I hurt to bad to care. So I basically just slept away the next few days. My grandma came over, and she had bought me a bracelet with tiny blue flowers on it. I loved it. I also was showered with cards and blessings the next few days.

When I finally was able to shower, I took my grand ole time. I didn't want to even touch my head. It really hurt just running water over it. There was no way I was brushing my hair for a LONG time either. But that was okay. I was only 12 and I didn't care what I looked like.

One week after my surgery, I had an appointment with Dr. Pollock's assistant. She was a nice lady, and she told me I needed to scrub my head. Ha..no way. It hurt too much. I had an MRI a few weeks later just to check up on things, and everything was looking okay. I needed to have MRI's every 3 months to make sure everything was looking okay.

I was just very happy to be able to walk and move freely without being in pain. Even with the limitations I had, I was quite joyful.

2 weeks later, I went to Bible quizzing with two of my friends from FBC. We took second place, and I wore a bandanna over my head. It was a great experience and God blessed me so much.

This is the conclusion my first battle with hydrocephalus. I will continue at a later time with my second battle.

I hope you have enjoyed reading my story, and I hope I have inspired you in some way.

My Battle Part 5

Note: I apologize for the wait. I am having trouble remembering some key details. Because of that, some of this may not have actually happened this day.

I woke up in the morning to the sound of my alarm clock. I jumped in the shower, dried my hair, and went upstairs with a bag full of things to do once I was out of surgery. ha ha. I had music, my awana book to study for Bible quizzing, a hand held sudoku game, a toothbrush, toothpaste, and a change of clothes. They said I would only have to stay one night if everything went okay. Of course, I didn't know at the time that I wouldn't be better instantly and all the pain I'd be in afterward. I didn't care. I was just glad to be moving on. I also temporarily forgot that people with any sort of brain trauma sleep a lot. I was having brain surgery. You would've thought I would've been more prepared. But how could I be? Everything had happened in 1.5 days. That's not enough time to read up on things and be aware of the situation.

Like any operation, I couldn't eat anything. I believe I was scheduled for 2pm. That was a long time for me to go without food back then. (that may be hard for those of you who recently met me to believe, since I go without breakfast every day, and some days without lunch.) So while everyone was munching away, I sat on the couch and tried to calm my mind and understand what was going to happen to me in a few short hours.

In my opinion, I can remember looking like a mess. My hair looked like a fluffed mop, and whatever I was wearing was wrinkled. But I didn't care. I was ready to go.

My family gathered around and prayed for me. I was overcome with peace. I wasn't worried or anxious. But then again, I didn't know what to expect either.

Dad and Mom got in the car and I crawled into the back seat. I don't remember the ride there. I could have been asleep. I could have been praying. I just can't remember.

When we got to Pittsburgh, we had to find a place to park. Since this was an inpatient procedure, we were able to park in the hospital's parking garage. Dad eventually found a spot and he squeezed the car in. We then headed to the fifth floor for all the pre-op work. We signed in and they gave me a wrist band.  

I don't remember what order the next events came in, so I'm just going to type as I remember.

We met with the anesthesiologist who was going to be "taking care of me." First thing he asked was my birth date to see if it matched my wrist band. He asked me what seemed like 100 questions that had nothing to do with my condition and everything to do with my personal life. Things like "Do you have your own room?" and "Do you have a boyfriend?" (yes, and no...in case you were wondering.) There were many other questions as well that I fail to see how it connects to that day, or any day really. "Do you wear perfume? Are you wearing makeup? Do you have any piercings beside your ears?" blah blah blah. And I was told they go over these questions with every child there from age 0-18. Seriously??? Gee whiz. He also asked me what flavor I wanted the anesthesia to be. He said strawberry, cherry or grape. I hate strawberries, and I wasn't feeling very grape like. So cherry it was.

Then I was told to put on a hospital gown. I despise those things. They are pure evil. But I obeyed.

So then the next room we went to was a waiting area. Then they were going to call me back to be "marked." I had no clue what that meant. :) So when I was called, I went to a room where a guy was sitting with several multi-colored sharpies. He asked me my name, my birthday (checked it with my wristband again) and then he asked me what I was there for. He told me he was going to give me a sharpie tattoo (which it looked like he had already given himself several), and asked what design I wanted. I was confused. Was he joking? Sort of. He checked my chart and said he had to draw an "X" on the right side of my forehead. There I sat with a big black X, looking like something from Frankenstein. Then we went back to the waiting room.

While we were sitting there, a custodian came by to grab the garbage in the room I was in. He must have thought I looked scared because he told me a joke. Then he asked me if I was good at math. I said yes, and he said "Ok, pick a number from 1-10. But don't tell me." So I did. He went on, "Double that number. Now add 10 to that number. Now divide that number by 2. Now subtract the number you started with." I did the calculations in my head, and he said "The number is 5?" I said yes, and he laughed and said "Great! It worked! And I got you to smile too! :)" Even a janitor can make a difference in a child's life.

The next thing I remember, we went to the last room I would be in before being wheeled into the operating room. There were a bunch of hospital beds, and there were little children sleeping in some of them. They all had stitches on some part of their body. I was starting to get a bit concerned. I knew they had to shave my head, but I didn't know if I was going to be completely bald, or if it was just a small section. I kept thinking that if I had to wear a wig, I was never going out of the house again.

There were a few people in blue scrubs in the room, just keeping an eye on the sleeping children. Then I saw Dr. Pollock. He was wearing a white scrub with blood all over it. He walked right by me, took off his coat and went into the next room. Then the nurse called my name and said it was time for me to say goodbye to mom and dad and go back to the operating room.

My heart starts to pound as I get on the hospital bed and they wheel me down through 3 sets of double doors, all with the words "Do not enter" on the outside. They wheeled me into a room where there were about 5 people in blue scrubs. There were tubes and wires coming out the wazoo. And right in the middle was the dreaded operating table. They told me to roll off the bed onto the table and put my head in the cushioned pillow thing. The next thing I know, they put a mask over my face and tell me to keep breathing. I felt my face go numb. One of the assistants said she was going to put an iv in my arm. Whatever right? I knew that part wasn't that bad. Well she missed. And she tried again and missed my vein once again. After about 5 tries, I think she finally got it in. Then all of a sudden, I couldn't breathe. It was like the mask was suffocating me. They had only given me nitrous oxide thus far, and even though my arm was numb and I couldn't talk, I managed to reach up to my face and try to push the mask off. The nurse kind of freaked out. She was like "Oh do you need some oxygen?" YES PLEASE. I can't breathe! So she took it off for a few seconds. She told me to laugh and smile. And I did. And that stuff does something to your brain, let me tell you.

Then it happened. She lowered the mask and everything went black.

...to be continued in part 6

My Battle Part 4

The drive to Children's in the car seemed to take forever. Dad ran me through what they might ask me to do, and that I should do it. Also that I need to answer all their questions with utmost detail. They are here to help me. So I need to help them out by telling them what I feel.

At this point, none of us knew what was going on, and it was starting to get irritating. Please God, just let them know today what is wrong with me. I can't take this anymore.

That morning I had already been to Westmoreland Hospital, my PCP, and now on the way to Children's Hospital. I was getting sick of being around a bunch of people who DIDN'T know what was wrong with me. And being around sick people as well made me feel horrible and sickly.

We were told to go to the purple elevators on the second floor. Go past the silver elevators and enter by the musical mural on the wall. How do I remember that you ask? You'll find out. When we got signed in and everything, Dad realized we were not there to see a neurologist, but rather a neurosurgeon. That was a bit unnerving. And we were both wondering if he was going to be able to help me out at all.

The nurse who called me back was very friendly. She had blonde hair and was wearing a grey sweater. Not a typical scrub like everyone else. She explained to me that I needed to tell her and the Dr. everything that I was feeling. And so I went through my symptoms with her, and then she asked me to stand up, walk in a straight line. I did that fine. Then she asked me to close my eyes and stand with my hands in front of me, palms up. Dad said that she stood behind me waiting for me to fall backwards, which I didn't. I didn't have the typical symptoms of a neurological disorder. I would have if it would have lasted maybe a few days or weeks longer. I don't know how long it takes. But from what I've read about other people my age, I should be, in some way, mentally impaired.

While we waited for the doctor to come in, I realized that whatever the outcome, God was in control. He was putting me through this trial for a reason.

The twelfth year of my life was a great one for me spiritually. I rededicated my life to the Lord, learned a lot about complete surrender, and I actually was baptized that year. I didn't realize it then, but God was preparing me to depend on Him when I needed Him the most. And now was certainly the time. I said in the last post that I was in the midst of preparing for Bible quizzing, which was only a week and a half away. I was worried I that I wasn't going to be able to make it and let my team down. But God had other plans.

There was a knock on the door and Dr. Ian Pollock, the head of the neurosurgery department at Children's came in. He shook my father's hand, and then he shook mine. And then he got right to the point. He said I had a condition called hydrocephalus. Where the ventricles in the brain swell and cause inter-cranial pressure. Making it feel like your head is going to explode, and causing pressure on the back of my eyes. Hence the pressure on the optic nerves in my eyes.

Like I said before, I was clueless to what any of this meant. And I guess Dr. Pollock figured that out. He said "The ventricles in your brain are supposed to be the size of your pinky finger. Ellen's are the size of my fists." Oh boy. That explains a lot. So he said "Let me take you back and show you what the films from the MRI look like. It'll give you a better perspective." And this is what we saw (NOTE: These are not the actual images of my brain, although I do have the original films though from my first MRI. Even though they technically aren't allowed to give them to us, they did.)

What my brain looked like

 

What a normal brain looks like

Obviously there is something wrong there. And if you think that doesn't look painful, look again. My brain ended up looking like that first picture for about 3 years, but I will get to that later.

So what is the cure? If you read part one, I explained the process of a third ventriculostomy. They drill a hole in your skull, stick an endoscope down in there, and poke a hole through the third ventricle. That was the option Dr. Pollock gave me. There also was a second. I could have a more invasive surgery and have a shunt put in, which is basically a drain with a tube attached that leads to another part of your body, typically the stomach. That requires at least 4 incisions. Two on the head, one on the neck, and at least one on the stomach. That sounded terrifying. And since I was 12, and this shouldn't have happened to me, he recommended the first option. It typically worked and I wouldn't have to worry about the tube getting infected and all the revisions that could come about through that process. (horrifying, just look it up on youtube)

I was relieved to finally have a problem and a solution. And the doctor said he wanted to do it as soon as possible. I was ok with that. God was giving me overwhelming peace that day. I remained calm, and I had a smile on as usual. The dr. said he would never have guessed I was in so much pain. And not many other people that I was around a lot even knew.

So he called out to his nurse/secretary and asked when the next available date for surgery he had.

Then came the real shock.

TOMORROW MORNING she said.

Dad was like "TOMORROW??" I was just like "Fantastic. The sooner the better." Not really, I honestly don't remember what I thought. Everything that week had happened so fast. I was tired. I didn't feel good. I just wanted to go home and sleep.

So then the next process of calling Mother and telling her that he could operate tomorrow...and tell her everything we'd just found out. I can remember the conversation going something like this:

Dad: Hi.
Mom: What's going on? What did you find out?
Dad: They want to do surgery tomorrow.
Mom: TOMORROW!?? What's wrong???
Dad: I'll tell you about it when we get home..is tomorrow ok?
Mom: *flustered and nervous* I guess...I mean, does she have to?
Dad: Yes. So there's nothing going on?
Mom: No.
Dad: Ok.
Mom: Well what's wrong????
Dad: She has something called hydrocephalus. The ventricles in her brain are supposed to be the size of your pinky finger, and hers are the size of fists.
Mom: *in shock* wow.
Dad: Ok, I gotta go, see you soon.

haha...so yeah, that's what I remember.

He scheduled me and said I needed to go for some pre-op bloodwork downstairs. So we went downstairs and I got poked again for about the third time that day. (not to mention I have horrible veins and they always miss the first time) So we finished that and then we headed home. Since it was Wednesday night, and by now it was about 6pm, I think we drove straight to church.

Once we got there, everything started to hit me, hard. That day, I had gone through a 45 minute MRI, had a shock that I might have a brain tumor, been rushed from one place to the next, visited an neurosurgeon, had blood work for the first time in my life, not to mention being poked and prodded at a dozen times, I was told what was wrong with me, I was told I was going into surgery the next morning, and not to mention I don't think I had eaten anything that day at all. I was exhausted, still in pain, and there was nothing I wanted to do except sleep.

I can remember walking into my awana class and everyone asking me what was going on. My class prayed for me. And we studied some for Bible quizzing. Then while everyone else went to gametime, Pastor Hipple and Mr. Parker, and Mr. McCoy and some of the other people at church gathered around me in a room and prayed. I never hardly ever went to gametime since whenever I would get my heart pumping, my head would start pounding. I usually sat in the kitchen and watched. So it wasn't a big deal at all to me.

So the night ended, and we went home and I finally got to sleep. As soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out. And I wasn't waking up until I had to. The next day my life would be changed. I was hoping for instant relief. And I had no clue how much pain was yet to come. I was just thankful to finally have an answer.

...to be continued in part 5

My Battle Part 3

It was February 21, 2006, a Tuesday that I will NEVER forget.

I was home watching Amy, Emma and Stephen. Mom had just left to take Kara and her friend Naomi to the mall. Naomi was (and still is) Kara's best friend, and she was spending the week at our house. They decided to go and do something together that day, and thus going to the mall as a result.

I had slept about 11 hours that night, and I was not feeling up to doing anything at all. I can remember being kind of irritated that I was once again left at home to watch my siblings. It seemed to happen a lot that year. Not to mention that I was worried that I was just going to die one day, so I didn't want to be left alone.

I was in my room when the phone rang. Amy answered it. And the next thing I know, I'm being told that Mom completely forgot about another eye appointment I was scheduled for, and she remembered when she passed it on the way to the mall. I don't remember if she asked me if I just wanted to cancel it, or if she was just going to cancel it herself. But something made her change either her or my mind. I'm pretty sure I didn't want to go. This was like the 8th eye appointment I was supposed to have in like 3 weeks. Nothing had changed. So why would it now?

Needless to say, Mom turned the van around and came home to get me right away. She dropped Kara and Naomi off, and I ran out the garage door and jumped in the van (causing my head to want to explode once again.)

We got to the optometrist and they took me right away since we were late. I knew something was wrong when I was sitting in the "examination chair" and he started shining these lights in my eyes with these things that looked like a magnifying glass. I could barely hold my eye open. My eyes by now were very sensitive to light. And this was like torture.

The thing was, it lasted for an extremely long time. Then the Dr. said "I'll be right back," and he walked out of the room and I could hear him talking with my mother. I couldn't make out what he was saying because he spoke in such quiet tones. But I could tell my mother was worried. "What does that mean?" I could hear her say, and "What do you do about that?" and "When can we get that done?"

My head hurts. I just had a bright light shined in my eyes for what seemed like hours. I just wanted to leave that place and go home to sleep.

Then the Dr. came back in and told me I could leave. THANK GOD. Well my mother was in a panic. And she told me that I needed to have an MRI right away. What on earth is that? I wondered. Then I realized it was like that thing I saw on tv where there's a lady laying on a hospital bed and they stick her in a tube. Hmm...interesting. What on earth did that do to you? How far did it take you back? Did it hurt? Was I finally going to learn what the heck is wrong with me? Was I going to die? These are the things that were going through my mind. I can remember the nurse/office manager calling around to see if they had any available appointments within the next few days, but the soonest they said they could fit me in was March. So I was going to have to wait until then.

On the way home, mom explained to me that there was pressure on my optic nerve on the back of both my eyes, and significantly in my right eye. The doctor said that he had another lady a few weeks ago who had the same thing. And nothing was wrong. It was just some sort of fluke thing, and that probably was the case with me as well. It was a condition they called Papilledema.

To my 12 year old mind, I had no idea what any of this meant. What is your optic nerve? Is this a really bad thing? Could I die from this? Why do I have to wait so long? Why do I need an MRI?

We got home, and Mom called Dad to tell him what was going on and that I was scheduled for an MRI in March. Almost as soon as she hung up, the phone rang. It was someone from the Radiology department at Westmoreland Hospital. They said they had a cancellation for the next day and wondered if we could be there first thing in the morning. Of course that was an answer to prayer and she said yes. I think I slept the rest of the day since I don't remember much.

The next morning, I was up bright and early and we were on our way to the hospital. I never liked being at the hospital to visit anyone or anything because to me, that was the place where old sick people go. And I was not old, and I really wasn't sick. I was just in pain. So we found the Radiology department, and they asked me a ton of questions like "Do you have any metal shavings in your skin? Do you have any bullets in your body? Any prosthetic body parts? Was I wearing any jewelry? Did I wear a watch? etc." Strange I thought. Why do they need to know all this? And why on earth would I have a bullet in me? I haven't been shot. Has anyone my age ever been shot? Weird. I was wearing a watch, and they made me take it off, and also take everything I had in my pockets out. I must have been wearing jeans, because I had a belt on. But apparently they did not realize that. And they didn't ask me.

The next thing I know, they are putting an IV in my arm. That was no big deal, but I had no clue why. I'm not scared of needles, and such small amounts of pain were no longer an issue. They said it was so they could do contrast...that meant nothing to me. I just wanted to it to be over with. So they asked me my height/weight, adjusted the bed thing, and put me on it. They covered me with a blanket and gave me ear plugs. Then they said that the hardest part was going to be that I had to lay absolutely still for at least 45 minutes. I figured that would be easy since I was allowed to fall asleep. hahaha...there's no sleeping in those things. It was so loud. Clicking, banging, squeaking, pounding, screetching, etc. You name a noise, that machine made it. Every few minutes, I moved further back into the tube. They had strapped my head down, so there was really no way I could even move it.

Since this was February, I was preparing for my first year of JV Bible Quizzing which was the first week of March. So during the MRI, I was reciting the verses and questions I had memorized to myself. It's the small things like that, that can give me comfort. And I was praying the whole time.

When it was all over, we had to wait while they printed out the films from the scan. This hospital had not yet converted to digital equipment. So it took quite a while to print out every picture. Then we went to visit my primary care doctor.

They took us back to the lit up screens where they put the MRI films up, just like an xray. The doctor said he didn't know how to interpret pictures of the brain. But from what he could tell, something wasn't right. And he said there I could possibly have a tumor.

WHAT??? A TUMOR? I really am going to die. GOD NO! Please! I don't want to die!

The Dr. told us we needed to go to Children's Hospital and see a neurologist there. And so he called and got us an appointment for that day, about 2 hours later. Mom did not want to drive me into Pittsburgh, so she called Dad and since this was becoming even more serious as the day went on, he wanted to take me. By the time we got home, Dad was already there and had changed clothes and was ready to jump in the car and drive.

Little did I know, that day I was finally going to find out what was wrong with me.

...to be continued in part 4.

My Battle Part 2

If I were to start at the beginning, I wouldn't know where to start. I don't remember the beginning. I honestly don't even remember it coming on slow, or one day realizing the pain had been there for a while. It didn't happen that way. There are certain days I can remember where the pain would not subside. But realistically, it started before that. I was 12 years old, in seventh grade, enjoying my life, not having a care in the world.

I guess the soonest I can remember feeling pain was whenever I had to read. Since I was homeschooled, I was required to read basically every subject. There wasn't really any "teacher" since I read to teach myself. (or was read to by my mother.) I can remember specifically reading a book called "The Golden Goblet," while sitting on our lazy boy chair. Then I couldn't read anymore. My eyes hurt. The lights above the piano seemed to be brighter than ever. Not to mention that my vision started to blur during my reading time.

These all seemed to be signs that I needed glasses. I knew I was far sighted. I have been my whole life. But all of a sudden, I no longer was able to read things without holding them out at arm distance or further.

So I visited the eye doctor. Several times I did. And probably about the third visit, my vision had changed enough that I needed reading glasses. I remember being shocked at that. I NEVER wanted to wear glasses, EVER. I thought I was ugly enough as it was. Glasses were going to make me look horrible. Especially wearing them to WEC. In fact, I remember thinking that the only advantage to wearing glasses was that people would feel sorry for me and want to be my friend? Yeah, my mind was playing horrible tricks on me. Even though I was only 12, I was extremely self conscious. I look at my sister Emma now, who will be 12 in a few weeks and think "I'm so glad she is not like me at all!!!!" She doesn't seem to have a care in the world. And I hope it stays that way.


The co-op my Mom led, Westmoreland Enrichment Classes (WEC), was always my favorite time of the week. I got to see my friends, and I was learning so much. That semester was composed of a Geography class, a French Class, some sort of Art class, and a History Timeline class. (I'm sure I was in a Science class as well, but I can't recall which one.)

My History Timeline class was right after lunch, and it was on the top floor of the building. By about the second or third week of classes, I knew something was more wrong than just me needing to wear glasses. My head would randomly start pounding at various times of the day. There was never really any pattern to it, other than it would act up whenever I got up really fast or had just walked rather quickly somewhere. And if I threw my head back and tightened my neck muscles, it would seem to ease the pain and eventually stop.

However, throwing my head back and tightening my neck led to many other problems that I had to see the chiropractor for. And whenever I would visit him, the pain was temporarily relieved for a few hours until it happened again. It was like an attack. It literally felt like someone hitting me with a sledge hammer from the inside of my head, out.

One week, I was walking up the stairs to HT class, and I didn't think I was going to make it up the stairs. The pain was so overwhelming. And sitting down in the classroom wasn't helping. If you knew me then, you would have known that I try to hide my pain in any way possible. But that day, it just wasn't happening. I burst into tears in the middle of that class and told the teacher that I had to go find my mother, but I wasn't able to walk down the stairs. That sent her into a panic attack. You see, I was extremely good at concealing my pain. No one knew anything was wrong with me at all except that I had to wear glasses for some reason. So she found my mother, and there was nothing she could do for me except take me to the chiropractor since that relieved the pain temporarily. So I went to the car while she found someone to be in charge of my siblings til we got back. I sat in the car and cried my eyes out. It hurt so bad.

The rest of that day I spent lying on the couch, bawling. And every week after that, the same thing happened. Typically during the same class.

Only one thing was able to relieve my pain for a long period of time: SLEEP

Let me tell you, I have always been a deep sleeper my whole life. And I can sleep for hours upon hours. As long as there is no light and no loud noises, I can sleep forever. A 7th grade girl does not need 12 hours of sleep. But I was typically getting anywhere from 10-12 hours every night. Let alone each nap I would take during the day.


I was starting to become extremely upset why no one could figure out what was wrong with me. I wasn't able to be doing the things a normal 12 year old should be doing. I couldn't run, or I'd be in pain. I couldn't play volleyball, or I'd be in pain. I couldn't walk around church and talk to my friends, because I'd be in pain. You see, everything that I loved to do then was taken away from me. Piano playing literally was the only self comforting thing I could do during that time. That's why I love it so much. And that's why I write music. Because I feel the need to express my emotions through my piano playing since that's what I did for so long a time. Between ages 12-15, my piano playing became my life. I constantly practiced for my next lesson. I was always thinking up ways to "rewrite songs" that I had heard, to be able to play them.

During this whole time, I was still going to the eye doctor like every week. My eyes still hurt. And my vision was getting progressively worse.

Then one day, there was a breakthrough. My eyedoctor found something that didn't show up before. And it was something that changed my life.

....to be continued in Part 3

My Battle Part 1

I don't remember when it started. It came on so slow, that I didn't notice it at first. I can't recall a specific day when I thought to myself "Hmm...I have a headache. I should go lay down." It didn't happen that way. And there is no explanation as to why it happened to me at all, either.

Hydrocephalus is typically a problem that happens to newborns. It's not something that shows up in an ultrasound, and no one knows about it until the baby is born, and usually with an abnormally large head. But of course an operation is performed within a few days and the baby grows normally (and they grow out of their head size) the rest of their life.

If you somehow get hydrocephalus when you are already fully grown, your head may enlarge and it will be like that for the rest of your life. But in an older child or an adult, it typically doesn't get that far since they are receptive to the pain. Therefore it can be stopped much sooner than a child in the womb. There is no explanation for why this problem happens to some people. And if you can imagine, not having a reason can be extremely frustrating. It was to me. I wanted to prevent it. But when there is no clear cause, there can be no prevention.

Ok, now you will clearly start to see the medical nerd coming out in me. =) Call me crazy, call me a nerd, I don't care. But all this stuff is so intriguing to me.

So you're probably wondering now, what exactly is hydrocephalus? First you have to understand a bit about the brain. As you can see, inside your brain three main ventricles and the cerebral aqueduct that drains into the fourth.

The two main lateral ventricles drain into the third. And the third ventricle drains into the cerebral aqueduct where it then goes into the fourth ventricle and down through your spinal chord. Cerebral spinal fluid is created somewhere along the way and is filtered through the ventricle system. That fluid is the same that your brain floats on. It is constantly being created and drained.

Hydrocephalus occurs when there is a blockage in one of the ventricles, and it is typically the third ventricle. It can be caused by an overgrowth of cells, a tumor, anything. And what happens is that the two lateral ventricles (as well as the third) start to expand because the cerebral spinal fluid either isn't draining at all, or is draining very little. This causes inter-cranial pressure. And if you can imagine, it is extremely painful.

It is also hard to diagnose without an MRI. Since we live in the age of migraines and Excedrin, no one even thinks about a headache as being a major problem. That is why many people like myself have to suffer for months or years before the doctor will even consider it to be a real problem. And by then, it may be too far along and the head of the patient may have already enlarged some.

If you want to get a more clear and concise view of what hydrocephalus is, watch this video. This girl explains it better than anyone else on youtube.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=c_tHOedD-YU

I shall continue with my own story in part 2.

What are you afraid of?

Jeremiah 1:6-7
⁶ “Alas, Sovereign LORD,” I said, “I do not know how to speak; I am too young.”
 ⁷ But the LORD said to me, “Do not say, ‘I am too young.’ You must go to everyone I send you to and say whatever I command you. ⁸ Do not be afraid of them, for I am with you and will rescue you,” declares the LORD.

Exodus 4:10-15
¹⁰ Moses said to the LORD, “Pardon your servant, Lord. I have never been eloquent, neither in the past nor since you have spoken to your servant. I am slow of speech and tongue.”  ¹¹ The LORD said to him, “Who gave human beings their mouths? Who makes them deaf or mute? Who gives them sight or makes them blind? Is it not I, the LORD? ¹² Now go; I will help you speak and will teach you what to say.”
 ¹³ But Moses said, “Pardon your servant, Lord. Please send someone else.”
 ¹⁴ Then the LORD’s anger burned against Moses and he said, “What about your brother, Aaron the Levite? I know he can speak well. He is already on his way to meet you, and he will be glad to see you. ¹⁵ You shall speak to him and put words in his mouth; I will help both of you speak and will teach you what to do.

These are just two of many examples in the Bible of two people who were afraid of speaking. Public speaking. I often wonder, how can these people be afraid of speaking to men, when they have spoken directly to God!? How? You can speak to the most powerful being ever, but you can't speak to a few people in a crowd. That is insane.

The top ten list of things people are afraid of is below. Look carefully. People would rather do the things at the top than they would the things at the bottom of the list.

10. Dogs
Because of all the dog attacks that are on the news and such, people are naturally afraid of them. I certainly can understand this, as I myself have often been intimidated by a dog. You don't want to be eaten, or knocked down. So you run away.

9. Loneliness
Personally, I think this one deserves a spot higher on the list. Loneliness should be feared more than it is. But because most people aren't lonely (even though they think they may be) this gets bumped into 9th place. And that leaves a gap for those of us who are lonely people.

8. Flying
I can't say much about being afraid to fly since I've only flown once in my life. And I was 2. :) I'd love to fly now though just to experience it. And I'm sure I will one day.
But once again, I can understand why people wouldn't want to fly after 9/11.

7. Death
Do you know what this means? People would rather DIE than live through 1-6. Keep that in mind.

6. Sickness
No one likes to be sick. But to fear being sick more than death? Seriously! That's like killing yourself.

5. Deep Water
I'm not much help when it comes to water. I love water. I love deep water. I love lakes. I love pools. I hate the ocean. haha..only because of sharks, and salt water...and sand. But I would love to go scuba diving.

4. Financial problems
Yep, everyone's afraid of that. People would rather die than be poor.

3. Insects and bugs
No comment.

2. Heights
I am extremely afraid of heights. I get really dizzy and if there's nothing to hold onto, I may fall over. Does that stop me? haha..nope.

1. Speaking in public
And lastly, PUBLIC SPEAKING IS THE NUMBER ONE FEAR IN THE WORLD. People would rather stand on top of the empire state building, be covered in bugs, live in poverty, jump into deep water, be sick, DIE, fly in a plane, be alone for the rest of their life, AND be attacked by a dog, than get up in front of a group of people and SPEAK.

And WHY?

One word: JUDGMENT

Everyone is afraid of what the next person thinks. Don't deny it. You know it's true. You care how your hair looks, if you stuttered, if you didn't clearly make your point, if you missed a vital part of the story. Lalalalala. So on and so on.
OMG what if I messed up??? What if I trip? What if...what if...God forbid..what if I say something stupid or funny and they don't laugh!?
If NONE of those thoughts have ever gone through your head during a speaking engagement, then you must be extremely confident in everything. And good for you. Just too bad that you're alone in that way of thinking.

This post was inspired by speech class last thursday.
And yes, I am working on 3 other posts right now. So bear with me.

The Fine Line Between Friends and Foes

Have you ever had one of those moments where you are telling someone that they are your best friend and then the next moment, accuse them of doing something that makes them your worst enemy?

I have.

And I often wonder afterwards "Well, were they really being my friend? Or just going with the flow?"
I am quick to accuse.
There is a long story behind why I am this way, and maybe I'll write about it one day.
But for now, let me just say that one of my worst fears is being rejected by a friend. Again.
And that makes me quick to accuse anyone who wants to be close to me.

In our culture of facebook friends and myspace pals, real friendship has been lost. Sure, I can have 400 facebook friends and not be close to a single one of them. Somedays, it seems as if my real friends who I actually see, don't mean much because of it. I can say "Yeah, you may say that I mean a lot to you, but I have a billion facebook friends who will say the same thing. And they don't even know me like you do!"

I know there are people who just add every single person who pops up in their recommended friends list. But I am not one of those people. All but two people in my friend list on facebook, I have met. And the other two are mutual friends who I have heard much about. So it seems like I know them.

I also have my own policy that I will not add anyone whom I despise. Instead, I often block those people. :) Yes, that may seem cruel. But my life is private. They don't even need to see my profile picture. (and if any of those people stalk other people the way I do, then.....yeah.)

My friend list is longer than my enemy list. :) But there are days where I wonder about who really is my true friend? The way I get lonely sometimes, you would think I'm a dull person who just wants to be alone. But no. I want close friendships. And I just want someone to accept me for who I am at every moment that I feel alone. Someone who will be there for me when I need a hug the most, and when I want to hit the restart button on my life.

So if you are wondering, my "foe" list is composed of people who don't care one bit, have hurt me in some way, or who have rejected me after pretending to be someone they are not. Have I misunderstood some of these people? Yes. Have I done my part in friendship every time? No. Why? It depends. Some of the time I don't care. Other times, I don't want to be a good friend or get close to someone because I know they will only cause me misery.

 If you've ever experienced "friendly torture" then you know how I've felt my whole life. I would describe friendly torture as having a close friend who knows everything about you, who you trust, and then they start taking your secrets one by one and shouting them to the world. The first few it doesn't really matter. But after the 4th and 5th times it happens, you just want to scream. This person is no longer your friend, but is quickly becoming your worst enemy.

I like to watch people. And it's usually the so called "best friends" who always engage in friendly torture. It ruins any relationship you may have with that person. Quite often, that relationship can become verbally abusive. And I've been fearful my whole life of having a best friend, because I never wanted this to happen to me.

Then I found someone I could trust. Told her everything about me. EVERYTHING. She knew me better than I knew myself sometimes. She knew my faults, and seemed to accept me anyway. It's funny now how I can look back and see that I didn't know her as well as I thought I did. She wasn't as honest with me as I was with her. I was easily trusting. And of course, she turned on me and engaged in friendly torture when I needed her the most. I became a very emotional person during this time. And I have been since then. I'm so terrified of this happening again.

There indeed is an extremely fine line between friends and foes. And I'm constantly watching my back, just waiting for the next person to shun me. "You worry too much" people tell me. And that's probably true. I'm always afraid that if you don't speak to me, I may have done something to offend you. I don't want to become the friend that I hate so much. And some days, I wonder if since I dwell on it so much, that I may become like her.

So always be on your guard. NEVER let it down. Those are are dear to you may be the ones to turn on you. It won't always happen, but I've seen it happen to all my friends again and again.

Yes, once again, I know this post has become about me. But this is what I write about. Things that have happened to me.

Coming up next: My Battle with Hydrocephalus, and how I was drawn to God through it.