“Huh?” thinks me, seeing the title of the article, “What non-neutral word is there in ‘O Canada’?”.

“True patriot love in all thy sons command,” the article says. A-ha, so there it is. Yes, certainly, it’s not gender-neutral, I just never really noticed it before. Or if I did, I didn’t care all that much.

I tend to not care about these little language issues. Words are just words, they don’t mean to offend anybody. Well… unless they do. But “sons” is not offense.

And I wonder, hmm, why they don’t want to change “God keep our land” to be more religion-neutral? Not that I, as a non-God believer, am offended by this line. I “get” what God is, and I think having some nice guy watch over us is a nice sentiment and fine to put in a national anthem. Why not? It’s at least less creepy than the guy who watches us when we’re sleeping, and people all over sing about him.

I do initially want to agree with the people who say “don’t those politicians have better things to do?”, but I feel like this is an IMDB-type argument (”it’s just a movie!”, “let’s see you make a better movie!”, silly little arguments that really mean nothing). And anyway, we know they don’t have anything better to do because they just got back from their damn long vacation because they couldn’t get along! And umm… I don’t think that actually made sense, since I have a problem with that, you see. I’m going to stop talking about this whole issue because I will not be able to continue on without using a little word that starts with F, and I’m trying to stop doing that.

So the whole issue is silly, we’ve agreed, and it’s only come up because public people are obsessed with being politically correct.

But then I see the suggestion for the new lyric (which is actually just an old version of the lyric): “True patriot love thou dost in us command”.

Despite the fact that it sounds sort of Shakespearean, a traditionally hard-to-read form of the English language, it actually makes more sense than the current lyric. While, okay, they both mean basically the same thing, I didn’t understand what the current lyric meant until I read the old one. My limited language skills tell me it means something like “Canada makes us feel patriotic”; the “thou” being “Canada” and “dost in us command” being “makes us feel”. The current lyric is missing the “thou”, so we don’t know who or what is commanding its sons to feel true patriot love. Make sense?

So you know, for this fact alone, I support changing it. Actually, I think that’s a bit too strong. I don’t really “support” it, because I really don’t care. But obviously I do care, because I’m writing about it. But really, either way, I’m not going to get my panties in a bunch. Can guys even use that term? Because I don’t think panties are very manly. Actually, they could say “boxers in a bunch” and then they’ve got the added punch of alliteration. Anyway, this is completely off topic.

Anyway, I think it’d be cool to change it because of the whole “making more sense” thing, and plus, gender-neutrality certainly isn’t a bad thing, even though it’s sometimes taken too far.

And seriously — seriously?! — Weird Al was never Canadian? Still? I swear that was him singing the anthem every morning on our school’s P.A. system.

Don’t remember when I left Digg, but it was around the time I realized everyone on it were woman-haters. I can be a woman-hater too, but after awhile, it’s just not funny anymore.

People have been saying for years that Reddit’s going the way of Digg. I’ve finally seen it for myself. There’s been all these childish spats over what moderators have said and done. There was one awhile ago on the IAmA subreddit, which is actually one of the few that are usually worth reading. Some mod made a stylesheet for the subreddit and then was banned from it and wanted them to take the stylesheet down. Understandable, yes, but they went about it wrong.

Around Valentine’s Day, a user posted that he found out his girlfriend was cheating on him and wanted advice on how to get revenge. Later, he posted an update about what he did. He went way too far. And the whole purpose of it was to “hurt” her. Again, I understand that he was hurt, but he wanted to destroy her. Okay, cheating’s not good, but geez people, it’s not the end of the world.

I don’t recognize many people’s usernames, but there’s one who I previously thought had some rather insightful comment, who’s now involved with this war over them accepting money for submitting stuff to Reddit. I don’t really think there’s anything wrong with that, and it looks to me like this person is still pretty cool. But then people are saying she’s abused her power as a mod and banned other people for making money off their submissions… But I figure, if she’s a mod, and Reddit doesn’t mind her making money off them, then let her be a mod.

Anyway, I’ve always disagreed with some widely-held Reddit views (downloading, marijuana use, pun threads), but now it seems that most people are expressing views I don’t agree with.

It’s been fun. I managed to get there before most of the other Digg users did and managed to enjoy some slightly higher intelligenced discussions. But now, the Facebook people who believe they can get free stuff by inviting all their friends to some group are looking slightly less annoying.

It’s been a long time since I rock ‘n’ rooolled…

Got a feelin’ twenty ten is gonna be a good year…

So Reading Week is over, but I’m still just as chipper as I was two Fridays ago when it started. Despite my horrible Tuesday/Wednesday, I had a great week. In fact, I haven’t had a bad week for quite awhile. Before I left for home for the week, I cleaned my oft-neglected room inside out. It pumped me up and set the tone for the rest of the week. Sure, cleaning’s not fun (unless you’re Danny Tanner), but to have my room — my room — look this nice was, well, nice! It hasn’t looked this good since before I moved in, mostly due to the fact that depression makes you (well, me, at least) not care much about cleanliness. Though that doesn’t change the fact that I still follow the logic “throw on the floor, I’ll vacuum it later”. (Of course, this only applies to my room(s). I went to a movie not long ago and my mom asked me why I took my garbage out of the theatre with me — “this isn’t my house” I told her. And too bad for that old teacher-logic, “do you throw things on the floor at home?” — why yes I do, thank you very much.)

Anyway, I started off my week off playing Beatles Rock Band. Finally, I decided I had enough strength to drum. It took me quite awhile to get back to even singing, which takes a lot out of you itself. And not only did I drum — which I had been wanting to do since getting the game and realizing Ringo is actually a kinda fun drummer — I sang too! I tried out drumming on hard, since I figured Ringo’s not Keith you know, and got by. My brother convinced me to try on expert (while still singing lead!) and I managed to get through about fifteen songs… and then I failed on “With A Little Help From My Friends”. But still, I was feeling awesome.

I got my room at home clean, even though it involved making it even messier than it already was first and then organizing things hidden away in tubs and drawers. This was quite a feat, because there were still things on the floor from moving out of my room at school last year. And I don’t mean last year like before Christmas break, I mean last school year, like before summer break. And then there was all the stuff thrown on the floor from the hospital, and all the stuff thrown on the floor from just regular living in my room. So getting that room clean was also awesome.

I even started getting our baby pictures scanned into my mom’s computer. I got all of 1991 scanned, cropped, and tagged in Picasa. Oh, how I love Photoshop’s “Crop and Straighten” feature! And learning how to do Actions — priceless! I didn’t even have to save each picture and close it; Photoshop did it all for me!

I could’ve gotten a lot more scanning done (and homework, which I should be doing now…), but I’ve been addicted to FarmVille and now Mafia Wars (which I only started playing to get the tractor in FarmVille… but now am playing just because I enjoy it). Considering all the time I’ve been putting into them, I’ve been doing pretty good. I don’t know how I’ll be able to last in my three hour classes without checking them every five minutes.

And besides all this stuff I’ve gotten accomplished, I’ve just been feeling good physically and emotionally. I haven’t thrown up, my poos are regular (which they haven’t been for about a year (well, actually, that’s a lie; they were pretty regular; I went about every two hours, night and day)), my stomach doesn’t hurt… there’s been quite a few milestones; I’ve ran up the stairs (even walking up them without being hunched over was quite an accomplishment), I can walk at a normal speed, and I have finally, finally stepped on the scale and seen a number in the triple digits (100.8, oh yeah! At first, I only saw the “00.8″ and wondered how the heck I weighed that little).

I know from experience and Charles in Charge that I should not be happy out loud. I’m a logical person generally and don’t believe in things without good reason and hard evidence, but I dunno, for some reason, I believe in some things being more than coincidence. I knew last year that as 2009 was drawing to a close, there was going to be one more bad thing happening in my life, something major. Honestly, I was expecting another death — a family member or a celebrity I admire, I’m not sure which — but luckily, that wasn’t to be.

Being in the hospital turned out to be a good thing, though. Since having the surgery, I’ve just felt different. I obviously am different, as people can tell from my appearance and health. But something in my mind just clicked, something that didn’t happen with the depression drugs. Sure, the drugs helped me feel better, but I still wasn’t 100% me. Like I said, I don’t want to “jinx” it, but I am feeling incredibly great now. I really hope it continues, but I know I probably shouldn’t count on it. But hey, after last year, don’t I deserve it?

From what I read and heard, the day before the test, the prep, was the worst. I was instructed to take four litres of Klean-Prep mixed with water, lemon-lime drink, or some other clean (non red or purple) liquid. I was to start at 2:00 on Tuesday, though they said if you have trouble drinking large amounts of liquid (and four litres is about two big pop bottles, and not the individual ones, the ones you have at a party), you could start earlier. I was going to start at 12:00 and was supposed to drink a cup (1/4 litre) every ten minutes.

Doesn’t sound too bad so far, right? Drinking a lot of liquid, okay, maybe will make you go pee a lot, but otherwise, what’s the problem?

The taste, of course. Everything I read said that the stuff tasted horrible, even with its “new improved vanilla flavour!”. But you know, had I not read all that stuff, I probably wouldn’t have had that much of a problem with it. The first cup went down quite quickly at 12:20 (okay, okay, I was a bit late because I was playing Farmville). But after that, I just lost motivation.

This week is Reading Week, so that means I have the week off, which worked out well considering the scope was scheduled before I even knew when Reading Week was. My dad coincidentally also took this week off to work on the house. So, awesome, right? Someone there to take care of me before/after the hospital. Unfortunately, my dad had to go into work on Tuesday to train somebody or something. So, there I was, all alone, with no one to encourage me (or force me) to drink the stuff. I called up my mom who said it would be okay if I waited until she came home and she would be there to support me. I told her I would get one litre down before she came home.

No can do. Four hours later and still, only one cup in me, and no running to the bathroom (which is what the stuff is supposed to do — it’s a colon cleanser and by the time you’ve finished drinking it all, you should be having clear, watery stool). I really don’t have an excuse for not getting any more down; I certainly could have, because the first cup was really not all that bad. It was just overwhelming to think that I still had three plus more litres to go and all this time to be constantly drinking it and all the time afterward to be constantly shitting it.

Most of what I read online said that if you’re under 120 pounds (I’m currently 97 and still not gaining anything, despite eating all the time — speaking of which, no solid food for 24 hours before the test, and daaamn was I hungry yesterday! Right away, too. And of course, every commercial, every show seemed to be about food! I would’ve loved to have just been able to lick a baby cookie to get the taste of the prep out of my mouth), you only need to take three litres. I’d also read that people weren’t able to get more than three litres down with no mention of their weight, so presumably three litres would be about enough for anyone.

I didn’t get three litres.

I don’t really want to say how much I did get, because I don’t want to encourage people to take as little as I did and still try to have the procedure done. Your colon needs to be squeaky clean because the test is basically putting a long hose with a camera at the end into your colon and checking it all out to look for irregularities (cancer, polyps, or I guess in my case, inflammation due to Chron’s). If it’s not clean, they can miss stuff. According to one of the nurses at the hospital, your colon should look like the inside of your mouth, all nice and pink. No brown stuff floating around. And finding red stuff is bad, which is why you can’t have red liquids (or cherry popsicles or jello — which are, of course, my favourite flavour!).

Anyway, I managed to get a few more cups in mixed with apple juice and water; the first cup was mixed with Sprite and water. When I was on the apple juice mix, I thought the Sprite one tasted better, but when I went back to the Sprite later, I was longing for the apple juice. It’s really about the same, I suppose. I had some Gatorade Rain to wash it down with — a drink I’d not been too fond of in the first place. But by the end of the night, man, did that Gatorade taste good.

Much crying and sitting and staring at the cup later, my dad gave me a Sprite mix in a bottle of water and told me to try chugging it, rather than taking it through a straw like I had been doing. Chugged. (Well, a Jenny chug, which is like a normal person sip :P). Threw up. Proceeded to not try again for at least an hour.

And really, you’re supposed to take this stuff fast so it doesn’t get absorbed into your body. That’s why I still hadn’t gone to the bathroom. I had done a normal bowel movement in the morning before I’d started the prep and after a light breakfast, and I mean, it was quite a bit. I hoped the fact that I hadn’t eaten anything solid for more than 24 hours before the test and the fact that I’d only had Cheerios (and chewed ‘em up real good!) and the fact that I’d emptied out before the test would mean less to empty out later. I’d read stuff online about diarrhea explosions (which I’m no stranger to, or at least wasn’t before my surgery) and terrible cramping and whatnot, and was not much looking forward to it — but would much rather be enduring that if it meant that the prep was all gone.

Mom finally decided it was time to go to bed, so I was kicked out of her bedroom with the TV in it. Dad wanted me to go downstairs with him so he could yell at me some more watch me and make sure I took the rest of the stuff, but I was saved by a bowel movement, finally. And it was watery! Hurrah! Didn’t think I’d want one of those kinda poos again, after that being all I had for months before my surgery.

Can I just say DAMN, I’ve been doing good since my surgery? DAMN!

Anyway, poo was starting to get on target; certainly not clear though. But it was watery, like peeing out your butt, and it was a fairly constant stream. I know, I know, TMI you’re thinking. Grow up, pooing is a natural function of our body. It’s a good thing I have such a good sense of humour about butts and farts and poo, considering how immersed my life has been in that sort of stuff lately.

It was getting late. I was sitting on the toilet with my head on the table I’d dragged in there and falling asleep. I eventually managed to straighten up and tell myself, alright, if you can drink this whole bottle (two cups), you can go in your nice, comfortable bed and sleep.

It took me a few hours, but I did it. Well, almost. There’s a little tiny bit still left in the bottle; I could’ve got it down with two big chugs, but I was just so exhausted. I ended up chugging most of the bottle with only a few gags and no more throwing up. It really is easiest to just chug it like a bottle of water. But I mean, I have trouble chugging normal, tasty drinks.

Quietly snuck into my room, hoping mom and dad wouldn’t wake up to yell at me some more. A few minutes later, my mom knocks at my door and asks how I did; was I still drinking, pooping? Yes, I was still pooping, but I was not drinking anymore. How much did you get down? …one and 3/4 litres.

Pathetic. I know.

It’s just a drink. I know.

I really can’t explain why I can’t drink medicines, swallow pills. Well, I can. I think about it too much and this mental block physically blocks me from doing it. I don’t know, something like that.

“Are you trying to stay sick?” my mom asks. “Are you trying to sabotage this?” my dad asks. (”Yes. Yes, I’m trying to sabotage it,” I reply sarcastically, but not sure if he caught on or not. I’m usually pretty good at knowing not to say dumb things like that that will just get him mad, but every once in awhile, a snarky comment can slip out).

They can’t believe I couldn’t do it. They’re disappointed, angry, frustrated, stressed. They tell me that they’ve prepared an operation room for me, there’s people waiting on me, counting on me to do what I’ve been told to do. These procedures cost money; thousands of dollars — thousands of thousands of dollars! Do I remember my dad saying $20,000? I looked it up just in case, and it looks more like a few thousand at most. Scare tactics or ignorance? I don’t know.

Usually when people get angry at me and try to make me do something, I think “well, they want me to do it, so I’m just not going to do it”. And of course, reverse psychology doesn’t work either. But I was surprised when I realized that thought had never crossed my mind. I really was focussed on getting it done, and not because my parents were or weren’t making me.

I don’t know if they were just plain angry and expressing it to me or if they were hoping them getting angry at me would convince me to do it. Because that doesn’t work. It didn’t work with pills, it’s not gonna work with this. But what else can they do? I’m a stubborn bitch, I know, and I don’t blame them for being frustrated with me. But all they’re doing is making me feel bad, which doesn’t make me want to take the stuff, it just makes me want to cry and not take the stuff.

Anyway, by this time, it was 2:00 in the morning. I was actually expecting it to be at least an hour later when I left the bathroom, so I was quite proud of myself for finishing the bottle so “quickly”. My colonoscopy was to be at 9:30 and I wasn’t supposed to eat or drink anything for four hours before the test, so I couldn’t even take the Klean-Prep for much longer, even if I wanted/could.

I slept for a few hours, got up at 8:00. I don’t think I got up at all to go to the bathroom during the night other than a bit around when I finished drinking. Didn’t know if anyone was even planning to wake me up, to take me to the hospital since I probably wasn’t clean enough to have the procedure done. My mom had even said to me last night that she wouldn’t be coming with me. I went downstairs and spoke as little as possible, but asked my mom what was up, were we even still going. “Of course we’re going!” she said incredulously. Okay, okay, just a question.

Dad ended up driving us there and dropping me and my mom off. I thought it was because he was the more pissed one, so he got to stay home since someone had to be there with me if I did have the procedure, but really, you were only allowed to have one person with you since the waiting room was so small.

I’m not even feeling hungry anymore. Fairly early Tuesday morning I was and throughout the day. Sometime at night, I just didn’t care anymore. After a few hours in the waiting room, I was starting to feel it again. I’m not sure what time I was called in, but it was at least after lunch. Almost all of the other people there, obviously all for the same thing, were older men. And then me, poor little girl.

Anyway, I’m to go into the room and take off all but the hospital gown and my socks and then lie down and get comfortable. I wait for a few minutes, getting my blood pressure taken, yada yada. I was told before the procedure that I’d be given some drugs through an IV and I would be “consciously sedated”, so I would be relaxed, but not asleep (though some people do fall asleep). This worried me because I did not want to be awake during it.

When I was young, I saw on TV a show about someone having a surgery which they were supposed to be asleep for, but they ended up waking up while they were cutting into them or whatever and could not tell anybody that they were awake. I think this is what stemmed my whole fear of hospitals, bodies, whatever. So this would kind of be like me facing my worst fear (besides ducks).

The worst part was the very beginning, when he stuck his finger in there, I guess to open it up or feel around or something. And then in goes the camera hose, I guess. I couldn’t really look to see what he was doing because if I moved, the thing could perforate my colon and I could die and stuff. I did, however, watch a bit on the TV screen, but my glasses were off, so it was a bit blurry. I’m not sure how long the whole thing took, maybe fifteen minutes at most? And it really wasn’t a problem. Like I said, the worst part was the very beginning. I could feel it moving around a little bit, I think. They blew air into my colon, which I was told I would then need to “blow back out” when I was in recovery (no problem, I’m a champion at that; ask any of my family, and probably my roommates). There was one point where he took a sample of part of the colon and my hand was on my stomach and I’m fairly certain I felt it, so I immediately removed my hand, lol.

So yeah, I was awake for the whole thing. I didn’t feel like they even gave me drugs as I wasn’t even slightly out of it after. That’s the only part I don’t remember: them giving me drugs. I don’t think they would forget a thing like that, but I dunno, I just didn’t feel it at all. But no pain really at all, just slight discomfort. I mean, what’s it supposed to feel like, having a hand up your ass?

When the doctor said it was all done, I asked him if it was clean enough, and he said yes. I said I hadn’t taken all of the prep, but didn’t say how much. I had told several nurses earlier when they asked and they wrote it down, but I’m beginning to think doctors never read what’s written down. How many times people in hospitals ask you the same questions over and over — you think there’d be a little more communication.

So they did it, despite my utter fail at the prep. I laid down in recovery for a bit and mom came in from the waiting room. While we were waiting before the test, I talked to her a bit, tried to keep some conversation going every once in awhile, and she even spoke to me without being prompted, and put her head on my head when I put my head on her shoulder, so I figured she’d gotten over it at least a bit. Well, I think she probably didn’t, but she just can’t hold a grudge against one of her kids. So, I talked quite a bit more to her afterwards and asked “are we cool?”. She said yes, but had they not been able to do the procedure, it would be a different story. Thank god they could, because I can’t deal with my parents being pissed at me. And my dad can stay pissed for a long time.

When I was good enough to walk (which was really right away), they let me go into the next room and have some apple juice and some sort of fruity bread, then get changed. After I got the IV nozzle thing taken out of my hand, I could go. And so, we did.

All done. I was just so happy! Still a little unsure about my parents, I’m sure they’re still a bit pissed, but they’ll get over it eventually. It’s done, after all.

Next time, I’m asking for Pico-Salax. It’s only two litres, I think. Much more manageable, less overwhelming.

So, all in all, it’s true; the colonoscopy itself is nothing to worry about; the prep is the worst. If you don’t think you can get the four litres, promise yourself you’ll get at least three and start early. Eat very light, easily digestible food for as many days as you can stand before, and don’t eat at all for at least 24 hours before the procedure. Take a laxative; they prescribed one for me, but it was a pill, so no-can-do. I really don’t recommend taking as little as I did; I was lucky. I’m also really small and I guess there wasn’t as much to clean out, plus, like I said, I already emptied out before I started the prep. Probably a good idea to drink a lot of water if you aren’t getting all the prep in. I didn’t do that, but I knew I should’ve. Basically, my story is a “what not to do” with a lucky happy ending. Well, at least until I get the results, I guess.

It’s a good thing I took my own advice. I’ve been playing Farmville mostly nonstop since then. I got into a mini-depression a few weeks ago due to slacking on taking my medicine (I even called home — which I never do — and cried to my mom, which was how she figured out I was depressed in the first place last year (geez, nearly a year since I’ve been depressed; glad to be on the mend though)) and started getting disinterested in it; my parents said they’d know I was back to normal when I started playing Farmville again.

Anyway, I didn’t really want to bring that into all of this. While I was still sick, my brother had his birthday and my family and I went out for supper. I made everyone promise before leaving that we wouldn’t talk about how *I* was doing, because it was his day after all. Plus, I’m just plain sick of being asked how I’m doing. Right now, quite well, actually, in case you were wondering, but I don’t want to jinx it. ‘Specially with it being reading week almost and I want to just go home, relax, and have some fun (and farm).

So yeah. I’m pretty damn addicted to Farmville. In the beginning, I was like, well, this is dumb, there’s nothing to do. Because really, you just plant your crops and then you have to wait a few hours before you can do anything. I always thought I didn’t like games like that. I got sick of Project Rockstar after awhile because it was really no fun just picking actions for your band to do from a dropdown list every morning and then forgetting about them until tomorrow. I want a game like Neopets, where there are actually games to play, always something to do, some way to make money. But you eventually figure out that you can visit other people’s farms and decorate your own and frantically try to adopt lost animals from your news feed.

Anyway, I really like Farmville. It’s not perfect, but it’s quite well-made. And updated regularly! But there are a few minor little changes I would want to make if they let me make the game.

Change your avatar’s clothes

We don’t have to go full-fledged dollmaker here, but just let us change the colour of the darn overalls! Mine will be green with a white shirt. Speaking of the avatar maker, it would be nice if you could, you know, click on a hair style and then pick a colour, rather than search through all the pages. It just makes more sense, you know? Just an efficiency thing. And speaking of colours, why can’t we have an eyedropper for things like hair and clothes and hay bales? I don’t actually know how hard that would be to program because I’ve never done it myself, but I know having a set number of objects in X colours is easier. But again, eyedroppers are so much nicer and more efficient. One monochrome item and… actually, now that I think about it, that might be very not fun to make. But I’m only second year, these people are supposed to be professionals, right?

No lopsided farms

Whyyy is there that extra space along the edges after you’ve filled your lot with crops? I know some people use it for trees and animals, but I’d really rather everything was just nice and even. And why don’t we have fences that are four units long so they can properly be placed right around the crops? Though I guess that would actually cause a problem at corners… hmm. Two units then, for cheaper!

Fix the bleeding hedges

So, okay, this is not so much a change as an actual bug that needs fixed. And I don’t mean like “damn, those bloody hedges!”, I mean the hedges actually bleed. And I don’t mean like “Amityville Horror”, I mean like graphically they poke through other objects. The hedges are so nice, but I hate using them because they’re broken.

Rotate everything

I can’t put my horse stable next to my chicken coop and dairy farms because it faces left while the other two face down. Just makes no sense. I want to rotate buildings. And even if we don’t have the right and up facing versions, it would be nice to at least have left and down for all objects.

And well, the other things are just whiny gimme-gimme things that normal people ask for and that will probably eventually be implemented but I want to mention them anyway. Let me upgrade my barn more! And no maximum number of collectibles! (Quoth me, “you can never have too many Beetle collectibles”). And more duck items!

So you know, not really a lot of changes. Just eensy-weensy things that would be nice. And sure, sometimes I don’t get my gifts and sometimes Farmville being “enhanced” interrupts my plowing, and sometimes the page just doesn’t load, but all in all, Farmville is some quality entertainment.

“Not a lot of stars, though.”

“Well, there are a lot of stars, you just can’t see them. You’d see a lot at Aunt Peggy’s house.”

“Did you learn that in astronomy class?”

“No, I learned that by going to Aunt Peggy’s house at night.”

Tuesday meant another blood test, my most hated of all doctor related thingies. Went to the lab with my dad, waited an awful long time (if you’re doing blood work, don’t do it in the morning if at all possible – way too busy then), which is the hardest part for me. Finally got in to see the blood doctor lady and requested I lie down, since these kind of things freak me out. “No wonder,” she said when she saw my veins, some of the thinnest, wiriest ones she’s seen. It took her three pokes to get anything. I asked if I’d be able to eat afterwards, since I had to fast for twelve hours before giving blood, and she said after what I’d been through, I was one of the most deserving people to get something to eat. Finally done and over with, had to give a urine sample, which I can never do on demand, so I ended up taking it home and sending my dad back with it later.

I’d also that day taken my first upped dose of Prozac, 1 1/2 up to 2 teaspoons. Took the Prevacid at night, two meltable tablets that didn’t taste all that bad, but it took a long time for me to get psyched up to take them. Was feeling kinda crappy, so decided to watch “Anne of Green Gables” with my mom in her room with her nice heated blanket. While we were watching, I suddenly felt like passing out and had to go to the bathroom to throw up and poop up. Gross when they happen at the same time. We were concerned, because this wasn’t supposed to be a side effect of the Prevacid. Calmed down a bit, back to watching TV, but continued to have constant dull pains with occasional sharp, shooting pains down my chest to my crotch.

My dad came upstairs to sleep, but I decided I wanted to stay in his bed and he said he’d sleep downstairs. I felt a little bad about it, but I just really didn’t want to be alone. This had all started around 9:00, and by 4:00, it was still the same. We contemplated for a few hours what we should do. Should we go to the hospital? Is it just gas? It didn’t seem like it; this was like no other pain I’d had before. It seemed to be more on the right side, and we thought that could be something to do with the appendix, so we got my laptop and started looking stuff up. We finally decided to be on the safe side and go to the emergency room. I didn’t want to call an ambulance because then they’d come with their sirens and the fire trucks and all that, even though it meant we would be seen sooner. I didn’t feel like I needed to be taken out in a stretcher. We woke up my dad and told him what was up, so over to the hospital we drove.

My mom and I waited in emergency while dad parked the car. Didn’t seem like a very “emergency” place to me, there were just a couple of ladies behind desks and on phones and not talking to us. I was a little irritated. Eventually, we were seen and the lady asked all kinds of questions, and after a looong while of getting up and sitting in different chairs and seeing different people, I was off to a room. A waiting room? There were four beds, people coming and going in the others. I lied down and my parents sat with me. Person after person came in asking the same questions until we could get our story straight. I don’t remember much else that happened there, but I think my mom went home and my dad would call as soon as he found out anything. After I had given a urine sample (which took awhile again), I got to have a drink – finally. But it turned out it was x-ray dye: two bottomless cups of warm water that tasted kind of like pool water, or water from somewhere gross that you don’t want to drink. It was to make my insides glow or whatever for when they did the x-rays. I remember doing some x-rays before the water, and that as she was taking the x-rays, I had a shooting pain. The dye was for the CT Scan I guess, and I had to drink another half cup of dye before going in. I had my eyes closed the whole time because I thought it was supposed to be scary and claustrophobic-y, but I guess maybe that’s an MRI. All the tests weren’t too bad, except I was in constant pain during all of them, and lots of waiting out in the hallways in my bed in between.

I guess when they were finally all done the tests, I got to my real room. I don’t remember much about that, but I must have been there for awhile, because I’d had lots of people in to see me and ask questions. I also had two ladies come in and one explained about the anaesthetic and another about this bag thing that I may have to have to carry my stool in, since I wouldn’t be able to “go” normally. Though they hoped that it wouldn’t come to that, they just wanted to prepare me for the possibility. There was still a lot they didn’t know, and they would have to make a lot of decisions during the surgery about what they would have to do.

Two other ladies came in and asked if they could test these temperature taking things on me, since I had a fever. I could’ve said no, but I figured I had nothing better to do, so I agreed. They just tested one side of my mouth, then the other side, then the middle for three minutes. It was to compare the accuracy of the quick tests to a more accurate old mercury thermometer test, or something. So that was kind of cool, if I got to help. They came in just before 4:00, which was when my surgery was scheduled for. I think that was four in the afternoon, but… I really have no idea.

Anyway, it turned out I had/have (?) a perforation in my bowel, so they had to remove a piece of it, I think he said about six inches, which to me, sounds like a lot, but I think isn’t really. I remember going into the room for the anaesthetic and immediately thinking how much it looked like the “Maxwell’s Silver Hammer” scene in “Sgt. Pepper’s”; the walls were the exact same colour, and I dunno, maybe there were some posters on the wall or whatever. I remember them moving me onto an uncomfortable table and my arms were spread out and I was in Jesus pose, which was a little alarming, but only for a short while. They put an oxygen mask on my face, which I guess then turned into the anaesthetic, because I don’t remember anything after that.

When I woke up, I think I was in the recovery room. Maybe I woke up in the elevator, I’m not sure. The girls in the recovery room were really nice. I can’t remember why I thought that, but my parents assure me I’m right. They gave me a “pain pump” which is a button I could press whenever I felt pain and it would give me a shot of morphine, but it was controlled so that I would only get a little bit every ten minutes or so. I’m told I pressed it eleven times and only got three doses, which was partly because I didn’t know if it was working, and partly because I was in pain and really didn’t want to be.

At the time, I felt like this was the most painful part. The first while in the recovery room, I just really wasn’t feeling it. And of course, before the surgery. I don’t remember the pain much any more, but I remember thinking it was really bad. I also remember thinking that I didn’t want to leave the recovery room, but I don’t know why. I think when I woke up, I had all these extra tubes sticking out of me. There was stuff in my neck to use to give me fluids as well as to take blood so they wouldn’t have to stick me all the time (which I am completely in support of). Then there was a thing in my nose that I still don’t understand, but it took out bile. And then the catheter, which I thought was for the butt, but which is actually a tube in your pee-pee (or your girl pee-pee) and your pee goes through it and into a little box and you are kind of peeing all the time without knowing it. And then there’s bandages and stick things in my arms for/from who knows what. But I wasn’t really very aware of this.

I couldn’t talk much, because I was still out of it, and I guess the thing down my nose/throat didn’t really help. I remember saying one word things like “paaain” and “bag?”. I was told there was no bag and surgery went really well. I don’t know how well this registered, because I think I asked a few times. I’ve forgotten most of what happened there, but I know I was lucid at the time. I don’t think I had my eyes open much though, I don’t know why. Maybe I was trying to sleep.

Then off to my real room, which is where I spent the next terribly boring eight (?) days.

It seems everyone absolutely despised 2009, myself included. So many bad things happened to me, to my family, to everyone.

Uncle died (January)
I got depressed (April+)
Dog died (July)
Brother got swine flu (November)
Had to get rid of cat (November)
Mom’s work got shut down
Dad’s job sucks
Garage broken into
Car tires slashed, sugar in gas tank
Car accident

I know there are tons more, these are just some of the things I remember. There were also some good things that happened too that I didn’t really write about because of my depression.

Judas Priest concert
Davy Jones concert
Just For Laughs gala in Toronto
Got a new dog

Well, the bad certainly outweighs the good. I’m a little disappointed I didn’t write about these things when they happened, because I like having a record of that sort of stuff.

Anyway, December 23 at four in the morning, I went to the hospital with terrible stomach pains. Just got home yesterday. I had to have surgery to remove part of my bowel because it had a perforation in it. Surgery went well, everything went well, but I had (have?) pretty terrible post-op depression. It seems this is what has caused everything that’s been wrong with me: depression, throwing up, losing weight, yada yada… I have Crohn’s disease. It looks like that’s what it was all along. There’s no cure, but lots of people have it and lead a completely normal life. All I have to do now is rest and get better and maybe make a few diet changes. I’ll write in detail about my experience later, I just figured I’d write on what’s going on a bit now.

No, no! No more vomiting!

Yesssss…

No! Pizza and orange popsicleses! It will be gross!

But thinks of how much better we will feel…

No! Leaves us alone!

We always feels better after vomiting…