Hello, friends.
About a week ago, I was at the Christian Counseling Center for my weekly session with Sherry. Next to a stack of magazines, there was a new notice:
"Pine Rest is sponsoring a clinical research study for clients who have a diagnosis of Major Depressive Disorder (MDD) and who have not experienced relief through medication or therapy. Research is now being conducted to examine the efficacy and safety of Sirukumab, which is also being studied as a treatment for rheumatoid arthritis. If you have any questions or have interest in participating in this study, please call our research coordinator at (phone number)."
(That's the gist of what the notice said. It was a lot longer and had a lot more description and screening information. I would have wasted both my time and yours in retyping all of it.)
I mulled that study description over in my head for a week. What I should have done was asked Sherry about it right away at our session, since I had just read it and it piqued my interest. I had always thought that my diagnosis was more along the lines of Persistent Despressive Disorder instead of MDD, though, so it didn't cross my mind to ask her about the study.
Over the weekend, I kept thinking about it and I did some of my own research. What was Sirukumab? Where else was this study being conducted? Is this drug approved and safe and legit? Could I maybe get paid if I qualify to participate? Would I have to stop going to therapy? Thank goodness this sort of activity is all federally regulated and monitored, so there is an entire .gov website devoted to clinical trials happening in the US. I'll get into what the study is all about in just a little bit.
During the following week, I corresponded with the research coordinator at Pine Rest to tell her that I was interested and to ask for some more information to see if I qualify. I opted to do some pre-screening questions over the phone, but we couldn't get a solid half-hour on the phone til Friday because I had parent-teacher conferences and professional development during the second half of the week. Plus, I wanted to bring it up to Sherry before making any appointments. On Thursday, I had counseling again, so I got some more information and signed a consent form to be contacted about participation (just in case, I think, since I had already been in contact with the coordinator).
Then on Friday, after PD and some lengthy conversations with parents, I was able to get on the horn with Pine Rest for the pre-screening. She asked me a bunch of questions about my health, my age, my depression symptoms, comorbid conditions (i.e., my anxiety), and logistics of participating for the full six months the study would require (i.e., could I come to Pine Rest's main campus for appointments, could I take off of work if needed to accommodate appointments that might last up to five hours, would I be living in the area for the next six months, etc.). After answering all of her questions, she told me that as of right now, I seem to be a great candidate for this study. The only concern is whether my depression is "severe" enough. Anyone reading this who has depression will understand why I put that in quotation marks - one's experience of depression (and its severity) will fluctuate from day to day or season to season. In my case, the question is whether I am currently in a "major depressive episode." As in, is my depression worse right now than my baseline depression? Honestly, I couldn't begin to tell you, since what on earth is my baseline for depression? It's not "no depression symptoms present," since I haven't experienced that since I was 18. And if history is any indicator, my "major depressive episodes" tend to coincide with fall and winter, which means that I may be (and definitely probably am) heading into one right now. Plus, how are we gauging my symptoms? Symptoms with antidepressants + therapy? Symptoms with antidepressants without therapy? Symptoms with neither? It's too hard to evaluate myself on those terms since I've taken meds nonstop for four years and gone to therapy every week for three years.
Do you see why it takes so long for new treatments to hit the market?
Anyway, I will go to the study clinic on Thursday morning for official screening and, if all goes well, the initial contact session. Here's what the study entails, and some Research Methods 101 for those of you who are not familiar with how this sort of thing works:
- Participants will receive either an injection of Sirukumab, the treatment under investigation, or an injection of placebo (so that the doctors can determine if there is any clear benefit experienced by the people getting the Sirukumab). The participants won't know which injection they get, and neither will the study doctors, so that the results will be as free as possible from bias and unconscious interpretation. In studying a condition like depression, this is extra extra super extra important, as reporting of symptoms is entirely subjective - there's no blood test or exam to determine if my "level of depression" has gone down. If I think I'm getting the Sirukumab, I may unconsciously skew my reporting of symptoms by describing them as less severe than they may actually be. In other words, I may want so badly for this drug to work that I try to prove to myself and the clinicians that it is working. I'm hoping that my background understanding of research and my long-term experience of depression will help me to evaluate my symptoms accurately.
- Participants will get bloodwork done on a regular basis to see if the Sirukumab is having an effect on the thing they want it to have an effect on. From what I understand, Sirukumab works like an anti-inflammatory drug - something is signalling the body's immune (?) system to have a certain response, indicated by inflammation. And we're talking inflammation on a cellular level, not like inflammation of the lips or ankles. If only it were that visible. Introducing an anti-inflammatory tells the system to cool it, stop inflaming, nothing to see here. Sirukumab was first developed as a treatment for rheumatoid arthritis, which is all about inflammation, but research conducted recently claims to show a link between inflammation markers in the blood and experience of symptoms of depression. That is, the more "severe" the depression, the more likely it is that the person also has high levels of these markers. This study is meant to explore this link and see if an anti-inflammatory that is specifically designed to cooperate with antidepressants (many AIs are not) will lessen the severity of depression symptoms. Antidepressants have no effect on inflammation, so a positive outcome from this study could revolutionize the treatment of long-term depression (like I have) that doesn't go away with just antidepressants.
- Participants get three injections over 12 weeks, with appointments in between the injections as well, and then there are 5 or 6 appointments over 14 weeks after the set of injections is completed. This is probably to gauge response to the injection over time. To compensate for all the driving and time spent in the clinic, participants get a $50 Meijer card for every appointment completed. Lucky for me, I live in the Grand Rapids area and Pine Rest is not that far away from me. BLAMMO.
I really really really really hope that they will select me to participate in this. It's fascinating to me. While I have (more or less) come to terms with the idea that my depression may be a lifelong struggle, I still hold my candle of hope that new discoveries will be made that lessen the symptoms and severity of depression. This sounds like it could do that, since it's an entirely different direction for research of depression treatment. I honestly don't even care if I get the placebo. I just want to be a part of something like this. I want to put my depression to work for me, instead of working against me, like it seems to do a lot of the time. If it works and becomes a thing, I think it would be so cool to be able to say down the line, "hey, I was part of the clinical trials for that drug!"
This is going to sound like a very bizarre request, but would you all pray that my depression meets the criteria for "severity"? Odd, I know, to pray that a disease is bad enough instead of praying for it to get better. I just hope that I can convey to the interviewer that mine is the depression they are looking for - it may not prevent me from going to work or class or getting things done, but it is still with me every single day, in spite of meds and therapy. In fact, I think it would be a LOT worse without therapy. Maybe they can use my description of how I felt before starting therapy. Compared to now, that was pretty severe.
Hopefully, I will be able to tell you all on Thursday afternoon that I was accepted to the study! Until then, more middle school drama and joys of adolescence. I'll have to write about that sometime. That could keep me busy writing for weeks.
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Hope. Show all posts
Saturday, November 14, 2015
Friday, October 17, 2014
Not Where I Thought I'd Be
Have you ever noticed that kids have a tough time figuring out age? Anyone that looks and acts like a grown-up is automatically about 40. Just for a laugh, I routinely ask my 5-year-old neighbors how old they think I am. Their most recent guess was 45. I told them that their mom isn't even close to 45 years old, and that I am younger than their mom.
Their next guess was 50. It's like living next to a comedy club.
Today is my 25th birthday. When I was younger, I always thought I would be married and maybe even have a kid by the time I turned 25. Especially when I was a kid, and didn't really understand age, I thought that 25 was the same as my parents' ages. You know, like, after you got to stop going to school, you turned magically into a mom or dad, and after getting gray hair, you became a grandma or grandpa. I had no understanding of the concept that one's choices contribute to certain outcomes. Like most kids, I thought it was just automatic and that it happened to everyone.
If you don't believe me, here's another example from my wonderfully wacky neighbor girls: this is my second year of being a nanny for a beautiful little boy named Tyler. He is a little older than one and a half now. At the end of last school year, his parents were in the process of moving and some days it just worked easier for his mom to bring him to my house, which is near her workplace. My house is not exactly set up for toddlers, especially one who loved to explore and put things in his mouth. So I took him over to play with the neighbors. I told the girls that Tyler was the little boy that I take care of during the day while his parents at work. That seemed to make sense to them. but then the next time I saw them, a Saturday, they asked me where Tyler was. I replied that he was at home with his mom and dad. One of the girls said, "I thought you were his mom."
Five-year-olds just don't have to think about things like never seeing me pregnant and never seeing Tyler as an infant. I know they know that babies have to grow inside their moms first because they had a little brother and two years ago I had many excited (albeit logically inconsistent as only children can) conversations about the baby growing in their mommy's tummy. To their mind, it just made sense for me to all of a sudden have a child because I was a grown-up.
As I grew older, I better understood how age works and how the typical life events timeline involved time in college, a "real" job, marriage, and then kids, according to my parents and my church. You wouldn't go straight to hell if you got pregnant before you were married, but they made it abundantly clear that they would be very disappointed if things went in that order.
The first time I met with my school counselor was in the first few months of 9th grade, when the counselors try to touch base with student in the class. I remember him asking me, "Andrea, where do you see yourself in ten years?" I didn't know how to answer, since I didn't know yet what I wanted to be when I grew up. So I gave a standard answer: "I see myself married, maybe starting to have kids, graduated from college, and working at whatever job I went to college for." 25 seemed like such a far way off - ten years was plenty of time to find the person I was supposed to marry and have babies with him.
Now, here I am, just turned 25 years old seven hours ago, and I have completed exactly one of the things that I told my counselor I wanted to have completed ten years later. I did graduate from college, but I'm not working at a job I went to college for. I am not a mom. I am not married. I am not even close to married. Sometimes, that makes me sad. Like I'm behind somehow. Like I'm missing some key trait that other girls have. Like my shelf life is running out.
I can usually put these feelings away and focus on other things, but they're still there. However, there are a few things in my life that I never would have thought to hope for at age 25. Things like:
1. I have a job that I absolutely love, even though I didn't go to college for it.
2. I am a grad student in a field that finally feels right to me. Teaching, which is what I went to college for, never felt like a good fit, and I'm glad that I didn't go into teaching just because other people expected me to.
3. I know my values and I haven't compromised them for anything. Furthermore, I formed those values as a single person, which means that I know what I'm looking for in someone else.
4. I am not in debt to the federal government, unlike thousands of other young adults in this country. I never would have thought of this as something to look forward to when I was only 15, but as I see my friends and colleagues navigate the repayment of those loans, I grow more and more thankful.
5. I am surviving depression. The CDC estimates that 1.6% of deaths in the United States in 2010 were suicides. This seems like a small percentage, but it equates to 38,364 people who completed suicide that year. You know what isn't recorded? The many thousands of people who attempt suicide each year because of mental illness. So while I definitely wouldn't have said "living with depression" when asked where I see myself in ten years, the 'living' part is something that I'm proud of.
I'm slowly learning to be content with where I am instead of frustrated by not being where I think I should be. Here's to another 25.
Their next guess was 50. It's like living next to a comedy club.
Today is my 25th birthday. When I was younger, I always thought I would be married and maybe even have a kid by the time I turned 25. Especially when I was a kid, and didn't really understand age, I thought that 25 was the same as my parents' ages. You know, like, after you got to stop going to school, you turned magically into a mom or dad, and after getting gray hair, you became a grandma or grandpa. I had no understanding of the concept that one's choices contribute to certain outcomes. Like most kids, I thought it was just automatic and that it happened to everyone.
If you don't believe me, here's another example from my wonderfully wacky neighbor girls: this is my second year of being a nanny for a beautiful little boy named Tyler. He is a little older than one and a half now. At the end of last school year, his parents were in the process of moving and some days it just worked easier for his mom to bring him to my house, which is near her workplace. My house is not exactly set up for toddlers, especially one who loved to explore and put things in his mouth. So I took him over to play with the neighbors. I told the girls that Tyler was the little boy that I take care of during the day while his parents at work. That seemed to make sense to them. but then the next time I saw them, a Saturday, they asked me where Tyler was. I replied that he was at home with his mom and dad. One of the girls said, "I thought you were his mom."
Five-year-olds just don't have to think about things like never seeing me pregnant and never seeing Tyler as an infant. I know they know that babies have to grow inside their moms first because they had a little brother and two years ago I had many excited (albeit logically inconsistent as only children can) conversations about the baby growing in their mommy's tummy. To their mind, it just made sense for me to all of a sudden have a child because I was a grown-up.
As I grew older, I better understood how age works and how the typical life events timeline involved time in college, a "real" job, marriage, and then kids, according to my parents and my church. You wouldn't go straight to hell if you got pregnant before you were married, but they made it abundantly clear that they would be very disappointed if things went in that order.
The first time I met with my school counselor was in the first few months of 9th grade, when the counselors try to touch base with student in the class. I remember him asking me, "Andrea, where do you see yourself in ten years?" I didn't know how to answer, since I didn't know yet what I wanted to be when I grew up. So I gave a standard answer: "I see myself married, maybe starting to have kids, graduated from college, and working at whatever job I went to college for." 25 seemed like such a far way off - ten years was plenty of time to find the person I was supposed to marry and have babies with him.
Now, here I am, just turned 25 years old seven hours ago, and I have completed exactly one of the things that I told my counselor I wanted to have completed ten years later. I did graduate from college, but I'm not working at a job I went to college for. I am not a mom. I am not married. I am not even close to married. Sometimes, that makes me sad. Like I'm behind somehow. Like I'm missing some key trait that other girls have. Like my shelf life is running out.
I can usually put these feelings away and focus on other things, but they're still there. However, there are a few things in my life that I never would have thought to hope for at age 25. Things like:
1. I have a job that I absolutely love, even though I didn't go to college for it.
2. I am a grad student in a field that finally feels right to me. Teaching, which is what I went to college for, never felt like a good fit, and I'm glad that I didn't go into teaching just because other people expected me to.
3. I know my values and I haven't compromised them for anything. Furthermore, I formed those values as a single person, which means that I know what I'm looking for in someone else.
4. I am not in debt to the federal government, unlike thousands of other young adults in this country. I never would have thought of this as something to look forward to when I was only 15, but as I see my friends and colleagues navigate the repayment of those loans, I grow more and more thankful.
5. I am surviving depression. The CDC estimates that 1.6% of deaths in the United States in 2010 were suicides. This seems like a small percentage, but it equates to 38,364 people who completed suicide that year. You know what isn't recorded? The many thousands of people who attempt suicide each year because of mental illness. So while I definitely wouldn't have said "living with depression" when asked where I see myself in ten years, the 'living' part is something that I'm proud of.
I'm slowly learning to be content with where I am instead of frustrated by not being where I think I should be. Here's to another 25.
Thursday, November 28, 2013
Honduras-Bound and the Painful Thankful
Guess what guys. I'm going to Honduras.
I have the opportunity to go to La Esperanza, Honduras during spring break as part of a team of doctors and optometrists. Obviously, they didn't want me for my skills with a stethoscope or an eye spoon, but rather for my ability to speak Spanish. As the physicians provide services to the people in the village of La Esperanza, I will be on hand to interpret.
I know I vowed never to travel abroad again, but something feels different about this. Maybe it's because it's only ten days instead of eighteen weeks. If you remember, that was pretty rough. If I don't like it, it's only ten days. I think I can handle that. Maybe it's that I've declined this trip for the last 4 years or so because I didn't feel confident enough in my ability to speak Spanish. Maybe it's that I can't stand snow and I especially can't stand a snowy spring break. I don't care that I won't be spending SB on a beach somewhere. I'll be content with the warmth and the sunshine.
I'm very thankful to all of the people who have contributed financially to this trip already. I'm about halfway there and I'm really relying on these donations because all of my money is going toward school right now. This trip won't be possible without the financial support and, more importantly, the prayer support from all of you. I'm excited about it. I'm nervous too, mostly because I still have to raise the second half of the funds, but I know that it'll happen. God provides. He provided the first half. Why wouldn't He provide the other half?
Since it's Thanksgiving, I'll list a few other things that I'm thankful for.
I'm thankful for my parents, who are allowing me to live at home rent-free and loaning me money for tuition.
I'm thankful for my brothers, who fix my technology problems and make me laugh.
I'm thankful for my friends, each of whom adds something special to my life and to me.
I'm thankful for grad school, and the ability to pursue a master's degree. I know that it's not an option for everyone, and I'm glad for the opportunity. I'm not always thankful for the boring classes, but I'm thankful for the people in them.
I'm thankful for books. Oh my heavens, books upon books. I love to read, I love to go to the library, I love my Goodreads account and keeping track of all the books I've read, and I love my Kindle. I don't care what all you staunch opponents of e-readers say. When I can't get my hands on a hard copy of the book I want and the Kindle version is available, I'll take it.
I'm thankful for my job as a nanny. It is a job that I never tire of. I never dread going to work. I wondered at the beginning if that would wear off eventually, but we're three months in, and I still love it. Tyler is my little man and lucky for me, he likes to snuggle. He always has a smile for me. My employers are wonderful too. There's nothing like a job where you know you're appreciated because your employers tell you so. It makes it an easy job to get up in the morning for.
And this may sound odd, but very deep down, I'm thankful for my depression. I know that doesn't make a lot of sense - why would anyone be thankful for depression? I would agree with you there. Some days, the thankfulness is much deeper down than other days. Here's why I'm thankful for depression: without it, I wouldn't have met so many great people, I wouldn't have met my wonderful therapist, I wouldn't have developed such an interest in helping other people with mental illness, and I wouldn't have learned how to understand. Understand people, understand situations, understand lifestyles, understand how you can be sad when so many things in your life are going well, understand how the color seeps out of the world when you're sad, understand how it seems impossible to get out of bed in the morning.
It's a different kind of thankful than the things I'm thankful in the previous paragraph. It's a hard thankful. It's not a warm and fuzzy thankful. It's the thankful that something good has come out of something terrible. The way you're thankful when someone you love is in Heaven and while you know you'll see them again, you hurt so bad that they're not here now. It's a painful thankful. It's the thankful that brings you closer to God and other people.
So whether your thankful is joyful, painful, or something else-ful, I wish you a happy Thanksgiving.
I have the opportunity to go to La Esperanza, Honduras during spring break as part of a team of doctors and optometrists. Obviously, they didn't want me for my skills with a stethoscope or an eye spoon, but rather for my ability to speak Spanish. As the physicians provide services to the people in the village of La Esperanza, I will be on hand to interpret.
I know I vowed never to travel abroad again, but something feels different about this. Maybe it's because it's only ten days instead of eighteen weeks. If you remember, that was pretty rough. If I don't like it, it's only ten days. I think I can handle that. Maybe it's that I've declined this trip for the last 4 years or so because I didn't feel confident enough in my ability to speak Spanish. Maybe it's that I can't stand snow and I especially can't stand a snowy spring break. I don't care that I won't be spending SB on a beach somewhere. I'll be content with the warmth and the sunshine.
I'm very thankful to all of the people who have contributed financially to this trip already. I'm about halfway there and I'm really relying on these donations because all of my money is going toward school right now. This trip won't be possible without the financial support and, more importantly, the prayer support from all of you. I'm excited about it. I'm nervous too, mostly because I still have to raise the second half of the funds, but I know that it'll happen. God provides. He provided the first half. Why wouldn't He provide the other half?
Since it's Thanksgiving, I'll list a few other things that I'm thankful for.
I'm thankful for my parents, who are allowing me to live at home rent-free and loaning me money for tuition.
I'm thankful for my brothers, who fix my technology problems and make me laugh.
I'm thankful for my friends, each of whom adds something special to my life and to me.
I'm thankful for grad school, and the ability to pursue a master's degree. I know that it's not an option for everyone, and I'm glad for the opportunity. I'm not always thankful for the boring classes, but I'm thankful for the people in them.
I'm thankful for books. Oh my heavens, books upon books. I love to read, I love to go to the library, I love my Goodreads account and keeping track of all the books I've read, and I love my Kindle. I don't care what all you staunch opponents of e-readers say. When I can't get my hands on a hard copy of the book I want and the Kindle version is available, I'll take it.
I'm thankful for my job as a nanny. It is a job that I never tire of. I never dread going to work. I wondered at the beginning if that would wear off eventually, but we're three months in, and I still love it. Tyler is my little man and lucky for me, he likes to snuggle. He always has a smile for me. My employers are wonderful too. There's nothing like a job where you know you're appreciated because your employers tell you so. It makes it an easy job to get up in the morning for.
And this may sound odd, but very deep down, I'm thankful for my depression. I know that doesn't make a lot of sense - why would anyone be thankful for depression? I would agree with you there. Some days, the thankfulness is much deeper down than other days. Here's why I'm thankful for depression: without it, I wouldn't have met so many great people, I wouldn't have met my wonderful therapist, I wouldn't have developed such an interest in helping other people with mental illness, and I wouldn't have learned how to understand. Understand people, understand situations, understand lifestyles, understand how you can be sad when so many things in your life are going well, understand how the color seeps out of the world when you're sad, understand how it seems impossible to get out of bed in the morning.
It's a different kind of thankful than the things I'm thankful in the previous paragraph. It's a hard thankful. It's not a warm and fuzzy thankful. It's the thankful that something good has come out of something terrible. The way you're thankful when someone you love is in Heaven and while you know you'll see them again, you hurt so bad that they're not here now. It's a painful thankful. It's the thankful that brings you closer to God and other people.
So whether your thankful is joyful, painful, or something else-ful, I wish you a happy Thanksgiving.
Monday, September 10, 2012
God? I'm scared.
[Context: Last night was rough. I typed all of this out some time after midnight because I couldn't fall asleep. It's mostly a prayer, and I wanted to make sure it was still worth publishing once day came. Basically, I just laid in bed and said all the things I was scared about.]
God?
I'm scared that I won't be able to fall asleep tonight.
I'm scared that I'll feel lonely forever.
I'm scared that no one is going to want to marry me.
I'm scared that I won't make enough money to go to grad school.
I'm scared that my capstones are going to bury me.
I'm scared that my closest friends are going to keep getting engaged and eventually I'll be the only one left.
I'm scared that someone really close to me is going to die soon because no one close to me has ever died.
I'm scared that I'm getting really really really really tired again like before.
I'm scared that my depression will never go away.
[Amazingly, after saying all of these things, I felt better. I've never heard God's voice audibly before, but in my mind, a phrase kept repeating: "My grace is sufficient for you. My grace is sufficient for you. Sufficient." And then I think I fell right to sleep because the next thing I remember is hearing my phone alarm song.]
God is good.
God?
I'm scared that I won't be able to fall asleep tonight.
I'm scared that I'll feel lonely forever.
I'm scared that no one is going to want to marry me.
I'm scared that I won't make enough money to go to grad school.
I'm scared that my capstones are going to bury me.
I'm scared that my closest friends are going to keep getting engaged and eventually I'll be the only one left.
I'm scared that someone really close to me is going to die soon because no one close to me has ever died.
I'm scared that I'm getting really really really really tired again like before.
I'm scared that my depression will never go away.
[Amazingly, after saying all of these things, I felt better. I've never heard God's voice audibly before, but in my mind, a phrase kept repeating: "My grace is sufficient for you. My grace is sufficient for you. Sufficient." And then I think I fell right to sleep because the next thing I remember is hearing my phone alarm song.]
God is good.
Tuesday, July 31, 2012
Wisdom from How I Met Your Mother
This is my life right now.
(you might have to crank the volume way up because the video itself is pretty quiet)
Monday, February 13, 2012
Student Teaching 101 - How to Connect With Students
Okay, this one will be short because I have to go to bed soon.
In an effort to get to know my students / give them the opportunity to learn more about me, I shook hands with and handed out a slip of paper to each student in my four Spanish 1 classes as they walked through the classroom door today. Once class started, I had them rip it in half, write their name on one of the halves, and then write down something about themselves on that half. I told them it could be about the sports they play, what they like to do in their free time, what their favorite subject in school is, etc. I also mentioned that if there was anything about them that they thought I should know before I start teaching them full-time (such as how they learn or what hinders them from learning), they should write that down too. On the other half of the paper, they were free to ask me any questions regarding what they want to know about me. I promised to answer them in class later that week, provided they were appropriate. :)
Let's take a small time-out here for me to bring up a student that I shall refer to as S. S is in my 2nd hour Spanish class, does no work, does not want to be there, and is obsessed with boys. This is not just stuff that I am inferring - she has literally told me all of these things in the 11 days that I have been at GMS. My CT finds her to be one of her most frustrating students, not only for the reasons above, but also because she tends to say whatever comes to mind and is generally disruptive during class. In no uncertain terms, my CT has told me that she has pretty much given up on S passing this class, and it's easy to see why - according to her file, her mother is in jail, her dad is a truck driver and is home only about 2 days a week, she lives with her grandparents, has ADHD and Reactive Attachment Disorder (which basically means that she is social indiscriminately and often inappropriately), and has a behavior infractions file about an inch thick.
So when I passed out my little slips today, I figured the chances of S actually completing this activity were slim to none. To my surprise, however, I found this statement written on her slip:
"I have depression really bad and no one here understands how that is."
I wrote back to her on the same slip of paper underneath her statement: "I understand how that is. I've struggled with depression too. You know where to find me, okay?" I handed the slip back to her as I was returning other papers and when I turned around, she was smiling at me and had tears in her eyes.
At the least, she'll know that she's not alone.
At the best, maybe we can turn her grade (and in a small way, her life) around.
"And we know that in ALL things (not just the good things, but the tough things too), God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28)
In an effort to get to know my students / give them the opportunity to learn more about me, I shook hands with and handed out a slip of paper to each student in my four Spanish 1 classes as they walked through the classroom door today. Once class started, I had them rip it in half, write their name on one of the halves, and then write down something about themselves on that half. I told them it could be about the sports they play, what they like to do in their free time, what their favorite subject in school is, etc. I also mentioned that if there was anything about them that they thought I should know before I start teaching them full-time (such as how they learn or what hinders them from learning), they should write that down too. On the other half of the paper, they were free to ask me any questions regarding what they want to know about me. I promised to answer them in class later that week, provided they were appropriate. :)
Let's take a small time-out here for me to bring up a student that I shall refer to as S. S is in my 2nd hour Spanish class, does no work, does not want to be there, and is obsessed with boys. This is not just stuff that I am inferring - she has literally told me all of these things in the 11 days that I have been at GMS. My CT finds her to be one of her most frustrating students, not only for the reasons above, but also because she tends to say whatever comes to mind and is generally disruptive during class. In no uncertain terms, my CT has told me that she has pretty much given up on S passing this class, and it's easy to see why - according to her file, her mother is in jail, her dad is a truck driver and is home only about 2 days a week, she lives with her grandparents, has ADHD and Reactive Attachment Disorder (which basically means that she is social indiscriminately and often inappropriately), and has a behavior infractions file about an inch thick.
So when I passed out my little slips today, I figured the chances of S actually completing this activity were slim to none. To my surprise, however, I found this statement written on her slip:
"I have depression really bad and no one here understands how that is."
I wrote back to her on the same slip of paper underneath her statement: "I understand how that is. I've struggled with depression too. You know where to find me, okay?" I handed the slip back to her as I was returning other papers and when I turned around, she was smiling at me and had tears in her eyes.
At the least, she'll know that she's not alone.
At the best, maybe we can turn her grade (and in a small way, her life) around.
"And we know that in ALL things (not just the good things, but the tough things too), God works for the good of those who love him, who have been called according to his purpose." (Romans 8:28)
Wednesday, January 18, 2012
The Hope For These Times Project
Read through these lyrics first.
"These Times" by SafetySuit - Released January 10, 2012.
Lyrics:
"These Times" by SafetySuit - Released January 10, 2012.
Lyrics:
These times will try hard to define me
And I have this feeling in my gut now
Now I'm sitting alone here in my bed
And I know there's someone out there somewhere
And I'll try to hold my head up high
But I've seen despair here from the inside
And it's got a one track mind
And I have this feeling in my gut now
And I don't know what it is I'll find
Does anybody ever feel like
You're always one step behind?
Now I'm sitting alone here in my bed
I'm waiting for an answer I don't know that I'll get
I cannot stand to look in the mirror, I'm failing
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will
And I know there's someone out there somewhere
Who has it much worse than I do
But I have a dream inside, a perfect life
I'd give anything just to work
It's like I'm only trynna dig my way out
Of all these thing I can't
And I am
And I am
Sitting alone here in my bed
I'm waiting for an answer I don't know that I'll get
I cannot stand to look in the mirrorI'm failing
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will pass
They will pass
They will pass
These times are hard
But they will
These times will try hard to define me
But I will hold my head up high
Sitting alone here in my bed
I'm waitng for an answer I don't know that I'll get
I cannot stand to look in the mirror, I'm failing
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will pass
And I know there's a reason
I just keep hoping it wont be long til I see it
And maybe if we throw up our hands and believe it
I'm telling you these times are hard
But they will pass
They will pass
They will pass
These times are hard
But they will pass
Now, watch the music video.
The first time I saw this video was today. I was going to do a little bit of commentary on this song, but I don't think I need to anymore.
As you saw in the video, people are reaching out to each other by stating their struggles, owning them, and declaring their hope for the future. These times will pass. I was inspired by that, and I want to start a bit of a social project: the Hope For These Times Project. Write down why these times are hard for you, take a picture of it, and email it to me. Then, write down the phrase "They will pass" on the other side (or another piece of paper), take a picture of it, and then email that photo to me too. (You can find my email address on the right-hand side near my picture, under the picture of the Eiffel Tower). My goal with this is to put these pictures in a post at a later date, provided that enough people participate. I'm sure there's a law somewhere that says I need your permission to post your photos online, so if you do participate (I very much hope you will), you'll need to let me know you're okay with me putting your pictures in my blog. While I would love to see your face in your photo (it lends so much credibility), I will understand if you keep your face out of your photo. I am 0% interested in knowing everyone's secrets. Hello, I put my OWN secrets online, I'm not digging for dirt. We can LITERALLY put a face on these universal struggles like they did in the video. This is what community is all about.
So let's recap:
1. Send me 2 pictures: one of your struggle, and one of "They will pass."
2. Copy this phrase into the email: "I give Andrea the permission to use my photos." (or something similar)
3. Stay tuned for the Hope For These Times Project debut. :)
I'll even get you started:
Thursday, November 3, 2011
Jesus Says
The Enemy says, "You are weak."
Jesus says, "My power is demonstrated perfectly when you're weak." (2 Corinthians 12:9)
The Enemy says, "You'll always be sad."
Jesus says, "One day, you will be happy again. I'm making all things new." (Revelation 21:4)
The Enemy says, "You are worthless."
Jesus says, "I will save you from oppression and violence, for you are precious to me." (Psalm 72:14)
The Enemy says, "You don't belong."
Jesus says, "I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. You are mine." (Psalm 43:1)
The Enemy says, "You are afraid."
Jesus says, "Don't be afraid. I'm holding your hand and I'll never let go." (Psalm 41:13)
The Enemy says, "You can't do anything."
Jesus says, "You can do all things because I will give you the strength to do them. (Philippians 4:13)
The Enemy says, "Give up."
Jesus says, "Keep going. There is a crown waiting for you." (James 1:12)
The Enemy says, "You are all alone."
Jesus says, "I am with you always. You'll never be alone." (Matthew 28:20, Deuteronomy 31:8)
The Enemy says, "God sure seems far away today."
Jesus says, "Be still. Remember that I am your God and I'm not going anywhere." (Psalm 46:10)
The Enemy says, "Nothing you do is good enough."
Jesus says, "Focus only on working for me, not them. I am well pleased with you." (Colossians 3:23-24)
The Enemy says, "God can't understand your pain."
Jesus says, "I have cried for loved ones, I have been overwhelmed, and I have felt deep sadness in my very soul. I know how you feel." (John 11:35, Matthew 26:38)
The Enemy says, "You should be afraid of death."
Jesus says, "I destroyed death. There's nothing to be afraid of because I am stronger than death."
The Enemy says, "You are tired and weary."
Jesus says, "Put your hope in me. I'll give you new strength and you will fly with me."
The Enemy says, "That anxiety's gonna kill you."
Jesus says, "Heap all your anxiety on me. I care about you and I will give you rest." (1 Peter 5:7, Matthew 11:29)
The Enemy says, "You are lost. You don't know where you're going."
Jesus says, "I'm right behind you. This is the way. Keep going." (Isaiah 30:21)
The Enemy says, "There's nothing left after this."
Jesus says, "I want you to be with me where I am. I've prepared a place for you to stay for eternity." (John 17:24, John 14:3)
No matter who your enemy is, don't listen to them. Don't believe their lies. God's promises cover each and every one of the lies.
Jesus says, "My power is demonstrated perfectly when you're weak." (2 Corinthians 12:9)
The Enemy says, "You'll always be sad."
Jesus says, "One day, you will be happy again. I'm making all things new." (Revelation 21:4)
The Enemy says, "You are worthless."
Jesus says, "I will save you from oppression and violence, for you are precious to me." (Psalm 72:14)
The Enemy says, "You don't belong."
Jesus says, "I have redeemed you. I have called you by name. You are mine." (Psalm 43:1)
The Enemy says, "You are afraid."
Jesus says, "Don't be afraid. I'm holding your hand and I'll never let go." (Psalm 41:13)
The Enemy says, "You can't do anything."
Jesus says, "You can do all things because I will give you the strength to do them. (Philippians 4:13)
The Enemy says, "Give up."
Jesus says, "Keep going. There is a crown waiting for you." (James 1:12)
The Enemy says, "You are all alone."
Jesus says, "I am with you always. You'll never be alone." (Matthew 28:20, Deuteronomy 31:8)
The Enemy says, "God sure seems far away today."
Jesus says, "Be still. Remember that I am your God and I'm not going anywhere." (Psalm 46:10)
The Enemy says, "Nothing you do is good enough."
Jesus says, "Focus only on working for me, not them. I am well pleased with you." (Colossians 3:23-24)
The Enemy says, "God can't understand your pain."
Jesus says, "I have cried for loved ones, I have been overwhelmed, and I have felt deep sadness in my very soul. I know how you feel." (John 11:35, Matthew 26:38)
The Enemy says, "You should be afraid of death."
Jesus says, "I destroyed death. There's nothing to be afraid of because I am stronger than death."
The Enemy says, "You are tired and weary."
Jesus says, "Put your hope in me. I'll give you new strength and you will fly with me."
The Enemy says, "That anxiety's gonna kill you."
Jesus says, "Heap all your anxiety on me. I care about you and I will give you rest." (1 Peter 5:7, Matthew 11:29)
The Enemy says, "You are lost. You don't know where you're going."
Jesus says, "I'm right behind you. This is the way. Keep going." (Isaiah 30:21)
The Enemy says, "There's nothing left after this."
Jesus says, "I want you to be with me where I am. I've prepared a place for you to stay for eternity." (John 17:24, John 14:3)
No matter who your enemy is, don't listen to them. Don't believe their lies. God's promises cover each and every one of the lies.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Facing the Giant
If David could defeat his giant with one smooth stone...
So can I.
Break the silence. Break the stigma.
Sunday, September 18, 2011
This Battle Doesn't Belong to Me Anymore
I don't usually go to LOFT, which is Calvin's Sunday night service. Tonight, I'm very glad I did.
The theme for tonight was 'David and Goliath.' We read through the story, complete with Pastor Mary's hilarious embellishments, and after that was done, we got down to business: she asked us, point-blank, what our giants are. What are the giants that we are afraid to admit to anyone?
Struggling in school?
Fear?
Feeling out of place?
Eating disorder?
Pornography?
Self-doubt?
Self-injury?
Anxiety?
The list goes on. Pastor Mary looked us in the eyes and said "This giant is not yours to face. This battle doesn't belong to you. David trusted God to deliver him from Goliath, and he wants you to trust God to take care of your giant too. You can trust Him. He can do anything. ANYTHING. Nothing that you are facing is too big for him to destroy."
She then invited students to share the giants that they face every day and to claim the power that God has in store for us. One after another, people shared stories of fear, anxiety, depression, eating disorders, identity crises, loneliness, out-of-place-ness, and other things. These brave students publicly (and very, very bravely) shared their giants with us and claimed God's protection, strength, and healing. I was sitting there in awe of their bravery and I knew I would never have the courage to do that in front of all my peers.
But as the service came to a close, and the time had passed for me to share, I thought, why can't I have that courage? I just need to ask, right? I don't need to be afraid. And even if I am afraid, I don't have to let it consume me. I can stand up and be strong. With God's help.
So here goes. I'm going to tell you the story of my giant.
I've been fighting depression since I started college. One thousand one hundred and eight days of feeling worthless, heavy-laden, and afraid. Not every single day was a bad day, but having several good days in a row was a very rare occurrence. My outlook was bleak. It was hard to just get out of bed every day. It is STILL hard to get out of bed every day. God picked me up and set me on my feet every morning, but it was hard to remember that and be thankful.
I was incredibly lonely throughout my time at GRCC. I was living at home, almost all of my friends were living the high life away at college, and I was in the same place I was back in high school. Just without friends and with little social interaction outside of my family. I began to cling to the moments of going out for coffee, visiting friends' dorms, and seeing them for just a few minutes every week. I clung to them with everything I had because I was drowning in loneliness.
When I transferred to Calvin, I hoped that the intentionality of creating community would pull me out of my loneliness. I was able to see my friends from high school on a more regular basis, but they had moved on and made new friends, as they rightly should have. I tried to assimilate myself into their new groups, but I've never been very good at that, and I always had a voice in my head saying You're an outsider. You're never going to fit in with these people. Stop trying.
My first semester of living on campus (fall semester, junior year) did not go as planned. I knew that where I was living was not going to be the same as the dorm experience is for many students. I was hoping to meet some new people, have people to hang out with, and maybe make some friends. I had no roommate, and therefore spent a LOT of time alone. At this point, all the people my age had moved off campus as I was moving on. They were busy with their own lives, I was busy with mine, and our schedules always slid past each other. For this reason, I was hoping to make some new friends from my building.
I met a total of 6 people that semester who lived in my building. 6. 2 were RAs. 2 of them were the guys across the hall who constantly played their music too loud with their doors wide open. The other two were girls that I got along with pretty well, but both graduated that semester and I haven't seen them since. I constantly told myself that I should be more sociable and more outgoing, but I didn't know how. That voice was telling me Who would want to be your friend? What does anyone see in you? How did you have friends in the first place? People are too busy for you because they don't want to spend their time on you.
You can imagine my enthusiasm to spend a semester in Spain, where I knew 2 people in the group of students and where everything very suddenly and very harshly became an unknown. It was the longest 18 weeks of my life. I experienced my very worst fights with depression while I was there, and it's only by the grace of God that I survived them and emerged, a little worse for wear. I thank God for the help He sent me along the way, in the form of my classmates, and I've already written a tribute to them on this blog (search on the right hand side under May for 'Living with Lions' for more about this topic). I would have given in to the temptation to end it (in more ways than one) had it not been for them. Dark times. But God's light shined brighter, even when I had trouble seeing it. There was one person in particular who held her light out to me day after day, and I don't thank her enough for it. I thank my God every time I remember her and I'll be forever grateful that God crossed our paths in Spain and continues to cross them now.
Summers were the blazing light in my school year darkness. I have spent each of the last 4 working at the Conference Grounds and it has blessed my life beyond description. I have found a second family there and friends that have walked beside me through this fight. It really says something about a summer job when you long to see your co-workers during the school year. The Conference Grounds is synonymous with community. The staff is a family, and the campers get to become a part of that family. I'm so thankful for them. Without this job, there would be no break from my despair. This is not to say that I never felt depression while at the Conference Grounds. Far from it. But I knew there was always someone who would be there for me, holding out their light to me, ready to walk beside me for as long as I needed them to.
That brings us to this moment, two weeks into my senior year of college. 1,108 days of fighting this beast called depression. Some days I won. I overcame it temporarily. Most days, I was defeated, but held on long enough to go to bed and hope for victory the next day. The beast has been gaining strength over the last several days, and I'm not sure why, but today was one of the worst days. Almost on the same scale as the days in Spain. But after experiencing the power that the others claimed for their lives at LOFT tonight, I want to claim it too.
I will not let the beast destroy me.
I will not give in because of fear.
I will not hide from it.
I will claim God's power and strength.
I will not let anyone look down on me because of the things I have shared.
I will not listen to the voice anymore. In fact, voice, you're banished. Get outta here.
I will try to live with courage every day.
I will be brave.
I will give this battle to God.
I will wait on Him.
I will seek rest.
If you've been able to read all of this, it means I clicked "publish" instead of "discard." Right now, even as I type, I'm having second thoughts.
But the giant ahead of me is NOTHING compared to the God behind me.
Deep breath. Go.
The theme for tonight was 'David and Goliath.' We read through the story, complete with Pastor Mary's hilarious embellishments, and after that was done, we got down to business: she asked us, point-blank, what our giants are. What are the giants that we are afraid to admit to anyone?
Struggling in school?
Fear?
Feeling out of place?
Eating disorder?
Pornography?
Self-doubt?
Self-injury?
Anxiety?
The list goes on. Pastor Mary looked us in the eyes and said "This giant is not yours to face. This battle doesn't belong to you. David trusted God to deliver him from Goliath, and he wants you to trust God to take care of your giant too. You can trust Him. He can do anything. ANYTHING. Nothing that you are facing is too big for him to destroy."
She then invited students to share the giants that they face every day and to claim the power that God has in store for us. One after another, people shared stories of fear, anxiety, depression, eating disorders, identity crises, loneliness, out-of-place-ness, and other things. These brave students publicly (and very, very bravely) shared their giants with us and claimed God's protection, strength, and healing. I was sitting there in awe of their bravery and I knew I would never have the courage to do that in front of all my peers.
But as the service came to a close, and the time had passed for me to share, I thought, why can't I have that courage? I just need to ask, right? I don't need to be afraid. And even if I am afraid, I don't have to let it consume me. I can stand up and be strong. With God's help.
So here goes. I'm going to tell you the story of my giant.
I've been fighting depression since I started college. One thousand one hundred and eight days of feeling worthless, heavy-laden, and afraid. Not every single day was a bad day, but having several good days in a row was a very rare occurrence. My outlook was bleak. It was hard to just get out of bed every day. It is STILL hard to get out of bed every day. God picked me up and set me on my feet every morning, but it was hard to remember that and be thankful.
I was incredibly lonely throughout my time at GRCC. I was living at home, almost all of my friends were living the high life away at college, and I was in the same place I was back in high school. Just without friends and with little social interaction outside of my family. I began to cling to the moments of going out for coffee, visiting friends' dorms, and seeing them for just a few minutes every week. I clung to them with everything I had because I was drowning in loneliness.
When I transferred to Calvin, I hoped that the intentionality of creating community would pull me out of my loneliness. I was able to see my friends from high school on a more regular basis, but they had moved on and made new friends, as they rightly should have. I tried to assimilate myself into their new groups, but I've never been very good at that, and I always had a voice in my head saying You're an outsider. You're never going to fit in with these people. Stop trying.
My first semester of living on campus (fall semester, junior year) did not go as planned. I knew that where I was living was not going to be the same as the dorm experience is for many students. I was hoping to meet some new people, have people to hang out with, and maybe make some friends. I had no roommate, and therefore spent a LOT of time alone. At this point, all the people my age had moved off campus as I was moving on. They were busy with their own lives, I was busy with mine, and our schedules always slid past each other. For this reason, I was hoping to make some new friends from my building.
I met a total of 6 people that semester who lived in my building. 6. 2 were RAs. 2 of them were the guys across the hall who constantly played their music too loud with their doors wide open. The other two were girls that I got along with pretty well, but both graduated that semester and I haven't seen them since. I constantly told myself that I should be more sociable and more outgoing, but I didn't know how. That voice was telling me Who would want to be your friend? What does anyone see in you? How did you have friends in the first place? People are too busy for you because they don't want to spend their time on you.
You can imagine my enthusiasm to spend a semester in Spain, where I knew 2 people in the group of students and where everything very suddenly and very harshly became an unknown. It was the longest 18 weeks of my life. I experienced my very worst fights with depression while I was there, and it's only by the grace of God that I survived them and emerged, a little worse for wear. I thank God for the help He sent me along the way, in the form of my classmates, and I've already written a tribute to them on this blog (search on the right hand side under May for 'Living with Lions' for more about this topic). I would have given in to the temptation to end it (in more ways than one) had it not been for them. Dark times. But God's light shined brighter, even when I had trouble seeing it. There was one person in particular who held her light out to me day after day, and I don't thank her enough for it. I thank my God every time I remember her and I'll be forever grateful that God crossed our paths in Spain and continues to cross them now.
Summers were the blazing light in my school year darkness. I have spent each of the last 4 working at the Conference Grounds and it has blessed my life beyond description. I have found a second family there and friends that have walked beside me through this fight. It really says something about a summer job when you long to see your co-workers during the school year. The Conference Grounds is synonymous with community. The staff is a family, and the campers get to become a part of that family. I'm so thankful for them. Without this job, there would be no break from my despair. This is not to say that I never felt depression while at the Conference Grounds. Far from it. But I knew there was always someone who would be there for me, holding out their light to me, ready to walk beside me for as long as I needed them to.
That brings us to this moment, two weeks into my senior year of college. 1,108 days of fighting this beast called depression. Some days I won. I overcame it temporarily. Most days, I was defeated, but held on long enough to go to bed and hope for victory the next day. The beast has been gaining strength over the last several days, and I'm not sure why, but today was one of the worst days. Almost on the same scale as the days in Spain. But after experiencing the power that the others claimed for their lives at LOFT tonight, I want to claim it too.
I will not let the beast destroy me.
I will not give in because of fear.
I will not hide from it.
I will claim God's power and strength.
I will not let anyone look down on me because of the things I have shared.
I will not listen to the voice anymore. In fact, voice, you're banished. Get outta here.
I will try to live with courage every day.
I will be brave.
I will give this battle to God.
I will wait on Him.
I will seek rest.
If you've been able to read all of this, it means I clicked "publish" instead of "discard." Right now, even as I type, I'm having second thoughts.
But the giant ahead of me is NOTHING compared to the God behind me.
Deep breath. Go.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Save a Place for Me
Jessica and I did a duet tonight in church (she on piano, I on guitar) and we sang this song. I'll just let the lyrics do the speaking tonight.
Don't be mad if I cry
It just hurts so bad sometimes
'Cause everyday it's sinking in
And I have to say goodbye all over again
You know I bet it feels good to have the weight of this world off your shoulders now
I'm dreaming of the day when I'm finally there with you
Save a place for me
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
I have asked the questions why
But I guess the answers for another time
So instead I pray with every tear
And be thankful for the time I had you here
Don't be mad if I cry
It just hurts so bad sometimes
'Cause everyday it's sinking in
And I have to say goodbye all over again
You know I bet it feels good to have the weight of this world off your shoulders now
I'm dreaming of the day when I'm finally there with you
Save a place for me
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
I have asked the questions why
But I guess the answers for another time
So instead I pray with every tear
And be thankful for the time I had you here
Save a place for me
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
I wanna live my life Just like you did
Make the most of my time Just like you did
And I want to make my home up in the sky Just like you did
Oh, but until I get there...
Until I get there, you just
Save a place for me
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
I wanna live my life Just like you did
Make the most of my time Just like you did
And I want to make my home up in the sky Just like you did
Oh, but until I get there...
Until I get there, you just
Save a place for me
Save a place for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
Save a place for me
Save some grace for me
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon
I'll be there soon...
I'll be there soon.
Wednesday, May 25, 2011
La Ciega: An Update on the LASIK Option
Some of you (most especially the Spain crew) know that around April, my dad emailed me to say that he sent my file over to a ophthalmic surgeon to decide if LASIK eye surgery could be an option to correct my inSANEly terrible vision. The file checked out, and we scheduled an appointment for the week of my return in order to go in for some testing and scans and continue with this little process.
Well, that appointment was today. I had to get up way too early, had my glaze-y-eyed appearance commented on by a very chattery woman in the waiting room, and got checked on by an assistant. We did some of the routine stuff, like determining the shape of my eyes and measuring the thickness of my corneas (in order for LASIK to be successful, the corneas have to have a certain degree of thickness of shape. The worse your vision is, the thinner your corneas are). The assistant took those measurements out to the ophthalmologist to have him look over some things.
Let me take this moment to provide some background. I have been wearing glasses since I was 5 years old. I had a brief flirtation with contacts (5th-9th grade) before we found out that they made my eyes wayyyy too dry for daily wear. Around the time that I went back to glasses, the ophthalmologist told me that LASIK would be an excellent option once I turned 18 and my vision stopped deteriorating so dramatically. So basically, I've had this laser surgery thing in the back of my head for years. I had even heard some of the doctors saying that this surgery would be necessary, not just cosmetic, and that I needed this in order to start over (vision-wise). It had kind of become an inevitability in my mind.
The assistant came back in and said, "Andrea, I have bad news. You don't qualify for LASIK because your corneas are too thin. If it makes you feel better, Dr. Bennett wants you to know that you missed it by a long shot." Yeah, that makes me feel a LITTLE bit better; it's not like I missed it by a few months or a year. It sounds like I missed it by several years. And several years ago, I wouldn't have been able to have the surgery anyway because my prescription was changing too rapidly. I guess that's that.
The good news is that my eyes are completely healthy, besides the fact that they don't work. There is no degeneration, no disease, nothing like that. They just don't work. Kind of like a spinal cord injury: the legs still have muscles and bones and are totally healthy, but they don't work.
The other good news is that there is a piece of technology that Europe has been using for years that is still waiting on FDA approval (not surprising, since Europe sells whole legs of ham in the supermarket and boxed milk that has a shelf-life of 6 months). It sounds like a surgical implant, and it would correct my vision regardless of how bad it gets.
So I guess there's a little bit of hope there. I was really really really banking on the LASIK option. I was looking forward to being able to swim and see where I'm going, being able to shave my legs in the shower and actually see them, and being able to walk in the rain without having to constantly wipe off my glasses.
I guess we wait.
Well, that appointment was today. I had to get up way too early, had my glaze-y-eyed appearance commented on by a very chattery woman in the waiting room, and got checked on by an assistant. We did some of the routine stuff, like determining the shape of my eyes and measuring the thickness of my corneas (in order for LASIK to be successful, the corneas have to have a certain degree of thickness of shape. The worse your vision is, the thinner your corneas are). The assistant took those measurements out to the ophthalmologist to have him look over some things.
Let me take this moment to provide some background. I have been wearing glasses since I was 5 years old. I had a brief flirtation with contacts (5th-9th grade) before we found out that they made my eyes wayyyy too dry for daily wear. Around the time that I went back to glasses, the ophthalmologist told me that LASIK would be an excellent option once I turned 18 and my vision stopped deteriorating so dramatically. So basically, I've had this laser surgery thing in the back of my head for years. I had even heard some of the doctors saying that this surgery would be necessary, not just cosmetic, and that I needed this in order to start over (vision-wise). It had kind of become an inevitability in my mind.
The assistant came back in and said, "Andrea, I have bad news. You don't qualify for LASIK because your corneas are too thin. If it makes you feel better, Dr. Bennett wants you to know that you missed it by a long shot." Yeah, that makes me feel a LITTLE bit better; it's not like I missed it by a few months or a year. It sounds like I missed it by several years. And several years ago, I wouldn't have been able to have the surgery anyway because my prescription was changing too rapidly. I guess that's that.
The good news is that my eyes are completely healthy, besides the fact that they don't work. There is no degeneration, no disease, nothing like that. They just don't work. Kind of like a spinal cord injury: the legs still have muscles and bones and are totally healthy, but they don't work.
The other good news is that there is a piece of technology that Europe has been using for years that is still waiting on FDA approval (not surprising, since Europe sells whole legs of ham in the supermarket and boxed milk that has a shelf-life of 6 months). It sounds like a surgical implant, and it would correct my vision regardless of how bad it gets.
So I guess there's a little bit of hope there. I was really really really banking on the LASIK option. I was looking forward to being able to swim and see where I'm going, being able to shave my legs in the shower and actually see them, and being able to walk in the rain without having to constantly wipe off my glasses.
I guess we wait.
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