Struggles and Loves

There I was, 32 years old and in classes full of 16-20 year olds, interspersed with the odd "old person" such as myself. As this school has a Running Start program with the local high schools, the number of 16 year olds was a little alarming. I was LITERALLY twice their age. Damn I felt old. I would overhear conversations about prom or driver's tests while I was planning my next dye appointment to cover up the grey that was now threading its way through my hair. I have to tell you, it was a little (and by that I mean "a lot") weird. As the crew chief at my volunteer job, I had spent a lot of time around teens. The ones that stuck it out always displayed maturity and responsibility. I guess I forgot that not all teens (myself probably included, I'll ask my mom) are that way. I often heard "what did you put for the third question?" answered with "I didn't do it, I had a Breaking Bad marathon instead. Hey, did you hear Anna dumped John in front of the WHOLE school?!" Don't get me wrong, I did projects with a few teens who were a little further along on the maturity and responsibility timeline... But while occasionally dumbfounded by the conversations I was hearing, it was also refreshing. Teens are SUPPOSED to be immature and naive, they are young and have less experience. It's funny how old you feel when you are 16 and then when you reach your late 20s to early 30s, you realize how very young you were back then. It was fun to see that stage of life being enjoyed.

Looking back on that time, I can actually relate with those kids (teens, please pardon the use of the term, but, well, it's accurate). They were experiencing new things as they approached adulthood, enjoying the ride and lamenting the bumps. I too, was in a brand new world. I was in an unfamiliar environment full of new people, new experiences, and new struggles. One of the biggest struggles at the time, you know, other than everything related to school, was my health. In addition to pain, I had no appetite, I was completely exhausted no matter how much rest I got, and I had no stamina. I managed to make all but 2 (non-consecutive) days of school that quarter. Those 2 days, the pain had me stuck in bed.

When I wasn't in class, I was in my bed attempting to do homework. There were a lot of breaks, a lot of pain meds, and some pain-induced vomiting, but I got it done. I really do not know how I did it. Having school gave me motivation to get out of bed, but when I couldn't my wonderful dog Beck was always right beside me, occasionally accompanied by my cat Seymour (both pictured below).

For a highly energetic and bouncy dog, her intuition was astounding. On bad pain days, she would lay next to me unusually motionless, with her head on my lap. On days where it was worse than bad, she would be a little further away (to avoid jostling) and would occasionally give my elbow a gentle bump with her nose, reminding me that she was still there. I am tearing up as type this. I have had some great dogs in the past, but never have I had one that was SO bonded and connected with me. She always knew/knows exactly what I need(ed). My mom took care of me (quite spectacularly I might add) and Beck was with me.

At the end of my first quarter in college, I miraculously had a straight As, and my tumor resection (removal) was planned for August 28. So naturally, I signed up for Summer classes. There were a couple of reasons for this; first- I want to get through school as quickly as possible, second- I needed something to do as I waited for my surgery, third- ummm, well... I know there was a third reason, but it escapes me at the moment... Anyway, it was this Summer quarter that was physically the most difficult for me, but also the most academically eye-opening. Having been a fan of the show Bones, I decided to take an anthropology class to fill one of my credit requirements. I took Introduction to Cultural Anthropology and I fell in love. I have always loved history, learning about other cultures, bones (go figure), human/animal interaction, etc. I had entered school thinking I would do a Biology degree, after Summer quarter I began to toy with the idea of a change.

As I plugged along at school, the pain got worse. there were moments when the pain was so bad that even on prescription pain medication, it was was still so intense that my body curled into a ball and I couldn't uncurl it. I physically could not get the muscles to do anything. My mom would come bring me something and try hard to hide the fear and worry in her eyes, but I saw it... I couldn't voice my pain. I felt that if I could cry out, yell, grunt, that it would lessen the intensity of what I felt, but it took all of my focus to keep my breathing normal. It tended toward hyperventilation at the most excruciating moments of pain. At those moments, without any conscious indication from me, Beck would begin to quietly whine. Hearing her voice what I was feeling actually lightened the pain a bit. Knowing that she was always there, and empathizing... Well, let's just say that I never felt alone in my pain, even when my mom was away from the house.

It wasn't all pain though. I had good moments too. I got out a bit. I did more walking and hiking that Summer than I did the entire year before. When I could move, moving felt so good! When I couldn't, one of my closest friends sent me funny pictures of her son, my nephew, that always brought a little joy to my day. It would have been so easy to feel isolated and depressed, but my friends, family, and pets wouldn't let that happen. I'm a lucky woman.

This story will be continued...