Smooth Operator.

     Last night, I spent the night at the hospital. I got 1.5 hours of sleep. I left the hospital at 6:30am. I threw on the clothes I had brought, put my hair up, put my shoes on, and headed out in somewhat of a zombie-like state.

     Nothing's too interesting about all that. The interesting part is when I got out of the elevator.

     I boarded the elevator on the 7th floor, and descended to the ground floor. Now, at 6:30am, all the doctors and nurses are rushing in for shift change. They enter the hospital in hordes, swarms, and droves. Hurrying along in their burgundy scrubs, all climbing down stairs, all rushing.

     Ground floor arrived. I was carrying many bags, and, as I mentioned before, was still practically half-asleep. The elevator doors opened. I stepped out into the lobby, and ran smack into this adorable, blonde- haired blue-eyed nurse. He dropped his stack of papers, which scattered onto the floor close by. I absentmindedly apologized, he did too; we proceeded to pick up the papers. That's when our eyes met.

     He looked at me, seemingly bewildered and confused. He smiled at me, I felt my cheeks redden. As I looked into his eyes, I said something that no guy wants to hear. Ever.

     "You remind me of my brother". Bewilderment and confusion levels skyrocketed. A look of disappointment dawned on his face. He thanked me, with a tone of confusion behind his husky voice. I told him he was welcome. By this time, we had finished cleaning up the papers. I handed him the stack I had collected, bid him have a good day, and he said "take care of yourself..." and boarded the elevator.

     As I walked outside, I couldn't help but laugh at myself for what I said, and his reaction. What made me laugh even harder was what would have been my other response to him.

     "You look just like that German guy in that one movie about the Nazis!"

Not sure which would have been worse, but I'm sure neither are what he wanted to hear.

Rights and "Politcal Correctness"

LGBQT rights.

Animal rights.

Civil rights.

Women's rights. 

These are just 4 groups of MANY in our country alone that are "fighting for their rights". We all know language that pertains to the three groups mentioned above, some language that is quite unsavory and "politically incorrect", and appropriate and approved terminology regarding these individuals/groups of people. Animals don't really care what you call them, but apparently there are people that stick up for them and their inherent "rights" as well. (I heard something about the whales at SeaWorld having a lawsuit or something? Odd.) Any way you slice it, these groups have been quite prominent in the media and news coverage over the past few years, trying to gain the respect and rights they feel they, as human beings, deserve. Now I'm not here to take sides on these issues, my purpose here is to highlight the terminology that is NOT APPROPRIATE to these groups. We all know the "bad words" that aren't okay to say regarding them. We all get that, MOST of us respect that and don't use offensive language that would offend anyone, and most of us wish no harm to these parties. I don't see anyone campaigning out there to PROTECT animal abuse, for instance.

No, these groups most definitely get a lot of attention in the media coverage. There is no shortage of articles regarding these issues, and if someone dare say one of the forbidden and offensive terms, by golly you're gonna hear about it! (and you should; that sort of behavior is not acceptable for anyone). But what about other groups? Sure, we have LGBTQ rights and civil rights and pro-choice/pro-life rights debates, and people are even fighting for animal rights now. But what about the groups that get under the radar, so to speak? Is there terminology still being used today that is strongly offensive to some people, but not being reprimanded and corrected?

Answer: heck yes there is.

Firstly, I'll address one group that is recently getting more notice and more respect, and is facing more reforms and revolutionary new ideas. You hear about it every so often, but definitely not as often as you'd even hear about animal rights. The group I'm referring to is the Special Needs community. These kids and adults don't always have a voice for themselves, so for many years, they have been treated as second class citizens. The individuals that were literally institutionalized were often times subjected to cruel experiments and trials, and were quite literally tested and used as guinea pigs in the early fields of modern day scientific brain research. (circa 1930's) Morally back then, people regarded them as "vegetables", and somehow justified treating them even worse than animals in "the name of science". I'm quite certain that we're all aware today that these individuals are not, in fact, "vegetables", but can be valuable and contributing members to society. Today more than ever, there are special programs and educational options for people with disabilities, so that they, too, can receive a normal and fulfilling education and learn to function socially, academically, and emotionally as best as they can.
While great strides have been made in the field itself, awareness of these individuals and giving them the "rights" that so many other groups fight for is not quite to my satisfaction. Once in a great while, you hear of some event for Autism Awareness. Which is great, don't get me wrong. What disturbs me is that for every Autism Awareness ad, about 15 of those horrid, depression-inducing Sarah McLachlan animal abuse videos air, sending viewers on a frenzied scramble to find the dang remote to change the channel to escape the torturously sad pictures of abused animals on screen. Anyways, I digress. Another thing that bothers me regarding this "subculture", or however you want to refer to it, is that the terminology is still largely unchanged. For people involved in the field itself, or with relatives that have various disabilities, or for individuals with disabilities themselves, hearing such obscene terminology makes us all cringe.
For example, the biggest offender: the "R" word. To us, the word "retarded" is just as appalling and wretched and absolutely EVIL as the "N" word to the civil rights movement, and the "F" word to the LGBQT movement. THIS NEEDS TO BE STOPPED. It is not okay to call ANYONE "retarded", whether they have learning disabilities or not. Let me repeat: THIS TERM IS EXTREMELY OFFENSIVE. DO NOT USE IT. It hurts my very core when I hear kids say this to each other, or if someone describes something as being "so retarded". A while back, people made a huge deal about the offensive phrase "that's so gay" (synonymous with "that's so stupid"), and the problem was largely contained. They ran ads on the TV about the saying, urging kids to be mature and not say the offending phrase. And guess what? I have not heard that phrase NEARLY as much these days as I did a year or so ago. (I spend a lot of time around kids/high school students, so I sort of know what goes on around them). I really wish someone would put an end to the R-word epidemic, as it truly is so hurtful to the individuals with disabilities and their families, and anyone that works with these individuals to hear that awful phrase. I beseech you, if you find yourself using the phrase, make a concerted effort to put an end to it. It's a bad habit, and even though you may not realize it, it's incredibly offensive.
Other terms to avoid? Mongoloid (referring to individuals with Downs' syndrome), Sevant (referring to "genius" individuals at high end of the Autism Spectrum), handicapped (this is a golf term, not a term to describe people. People have DISABILITIES, not handicaps. unless they're playing golf :) ) wheelchair-bound (instead use "person that uses a wheelchair" or something similar), autistic kid (this is another big one, it is a CHILD WITH AUTISM. Not an autistic kid), mentally retarded (went over this before, but correct way to say it is "person with mental disabilities"), a SPED/ED kid or class (It is not a SPED/ED kid, it's a kid that receives special education), etc. This is called using "person-first" terminology, meaning that the person is NOT EVER presented as a victim, but instead presented as a human being WITH a disability. It'd be the equivalent stupidity of calling someone a "glasses man" because he's wearing glasses. It's just not something you do in the regular community, and it's not something we should do with the individuals in the special needs community. There are many many more terms that need to be changed out, and slowly things are progressing, but I just wanted to try and raise a little bit of awareness to my friends and family members out there that may be unaware of this "group of people not receiving equal rights", unlike many of the more outspoken groups.

Another group near and dear to my heart, you've heard me rant about it before, but ADOPTION. Now I speak of this on a much, much lighter note, although there are still some serious concerns about this as well. Orphans. Where do people get the idea that all of us are orphans? Ignorance, the media, who knows for sure. Charles Dickens had a huge part in this, I imagine. BUT nevertheless, if you hear that somebody was ADOPTED, DO NOT ASSUME that a.) they are an orphan,  b.) that they came from an orphanage in a distant country c.) that they know, or even care about, their biological families, d.) that they were adopted when they were 6 years old out of some orphanage e.) that they secretly resent their "legal" families and want to run away back to their biological parents and/or their original non-existent orphanage.
You have no idea how many times I've had conversations about ALL of the aforementioned assumptions with naive people. And that's fine, I don't expect everyone to understand what normal adoption looks like. It's just always sort of odd to me when people either imply or ask me explicitly if I know my "real" parents (don't ever call bio parents "real" parents; our "real" parents are our legal parents. End of story.) or want to go find them, or if people ask me if I'm an orphan, or any number of the cliche questions people ask. Curiosity is curiosity, but it always astounds me when a seemingly sensible person asks such absurd questions like "what chores did you have to do in the orphanage?" etc.
Terminology for this group isn't as blatantly offensive as with the other group, but obviously, we don't like to be called "orphans", because usually, we aren't. Oh yeah, the term "forever family" really bugs me, too... You've all seen those Sarah McLachlan commercials for animal abuse that I mentioned before, the really depressing ones. The ones where they show pictures of brutally maimed and abused animals with the words "I just want a forever family/home". Okay. That language is appropriate for animals. They're animals. People? No. That creeps me out. That's Sarah McLachlan's gig, that "forever family" thing. We can't apply that to people now; it's just creepy. A child in foster care is in need of permanent residence. Not a "forever family". The child in foster care is not a puppy, or a kitten, or a cabbage patch kid. It's a human child. The term "forever family" sentimentalizes the whole issue, and injects unnecessary emotion into the process. You go to the pound and find a dog to "adopt" into your forever family. Do you go to a foster care clinic (or maybe in some people's terms, an "orphanage") and go through rows of kids, deciding which one to adopt into your "forever family"? Chances are no, you don't. Hopefully you think that's as creepy as I do. You don't "pick" a kid. You adopt them. Into your permanent residence.
I think i've gone on about that quite enough now haha... But seriously, folks. We're not orphans. We're not all related. We don't want "forever families". We're human beings, usually not orphaned, most of us have never set foot in an orphanage. We don't ask "please ma'am, i want some more" in british accents (well, some of us do within our own group as a joke. But that's an insiders only thing, y'hear me? haha). Point is, we're all just normal kids living normal lives with our "real" families. End of story. :)

"'forever family' is my gig, yo. Find another catchphrase, you street urchins!" 

::disclaimer:: sarah mclachlan does not claim that "forever family" is her gig, nor does she refer to adopted children as street urchins.::

^_~

What I Learned the First Day of School

1.) The level of annoyingness of Freshman behavior increases exponentially with every year spent at school.

2.) I prefer a class that is intense intellectually-wise with a lot of work as opposed to a moronic waste-of-time class that's simple, but absolutely asinine.

3.) Other people have long days, too. I went to McDonald's after school (10PM) and the guy in the drive through welcomed me to Burger King. After realizing what he had done, I asked him if he had just transferred to McD's from Burger King. He said no, he has, in fact, never worked a day at Burger King in his life, and it's just been "one of those days", to which I reassured him and told him he's definitely not alone.

4.) The recorder, as an instrument, is incredibly annoying. I don't care what your level of "skill" is, "Hot Cross Buns" on a recorder can never sound good.

5.) Some people don't know who David Bowie is. Also, some people think that Jareth from "Labyrinth" is the same person as Captain Jack Sparrow from the Pirates of the Caribbean franchise. A guy tried to make small talk with me about my shirt, featuring the below image of Bowie, saying "Oh, you must really like Jack Sparrow!" to which I was obviously confused. He then indicated the image on my shirt, to which I explained that I was not a fan of Johnny Depp, however, David Bowie captures my fancy.

Faith in humanity: Destroyed

5.) Not everything always sucks. Woke up, frantically attempted to get my act together before school. Tried to print a temporary parking permit (my legit one hadn't arrived via post yet), wasn't able to, so I was going to have to purchase a day pass, which is $6 or so. That was a drag. Spent 1 hour, not exaggerating, on the phone with the financial dept at school. Ran out of time, had to hang up and leave for class, having wasted one hour. As I was walking out to my car to leave for school, mailman pulled up, gave me the mail. Top of the stack? My parking pass. Later in the day, checked my email, and got a random email from the financial dept; the issue had resolved itself, without me ever having actually spoken to a human being about it. Randomly.

6.) God is good. (see above)

Encounters with Target Pharmacy

So last week, i got a call from Target Pharmacy, saying my rx was ready. Cool, I have no time to get it cuz of summer school. I'll just get it on saturday.

Saturday rolls around, I was out doing errands and figured I'd go to Target Pharmacy and get my rx. I go there, get up to the counter, tell them my name and date of birth, and the pharmacist says "there are no rxs here for you. Uhhhh okey... I just figure they must have made a mistake with the previous call and I go home.

I'm home now, making dinner for myself. Dad says Target Pharmacy called me.

mfw:

So it's about 4:30pm, I'm stirring a pot of food, and I call Target Pharmacy again. Tell the lady I got a call from them, blah blah blah. She then says "oh hi! yeah, you were just in here, and we told you that we didn't have a rx for you. Well, as it turns out, we DO have your rx, it was just on the back shelf because we're getting rid of it today. Did you still want it?" "ummmm yeah..." "oh, great. Well we need you to come get it today, otherwise we're gonna throw it out. We close at 5." "Uhhhhh I'll be right over..."

 

Target Pharmacy: "Let's play a game!"

So the time is now 4:35pm. I've got like, 25 minutes to go back to Target and get my rx before they so sadistically throw it away and make me reorder it and all that rigamarole again. I abandon the food I was cooking on the stove, get back in my car, and drive back to Target, where I have to battle for parking all over again (it's saturday, which apparently is Christmas at Target.) I finally park way out in the boondocks, get out of the car, and walk briskly back to the pharmacy, where the pharmacist grins sheepishly and says "sorry about that..." and gives me my rx. Thanks, Scumbag Target Pharmacy. Thanks so much.

Problem, Chibi?

A Thing Worth Mentioning

     It was the day after my brother's heart transplant surgery. Up until this point, I had been calm, collected, uplifting and encouraging to those around me who needed it, and kept it together remarkable well considering the fact that my beloved brother, almost a son to me, was going through unspeakable traumas and procedures and having a staring match with death, practically. Yes, up until that day, i had been just fine and dandy. I knew I was in shock; i wasn't so naive to think i could deal with all that so well. My brother's heart was practically useless, we were looking at having to wait months to get a transplant, maybe even longer, and the prospects were grim that he could even make it until then.
BUT miracle of miracles, only 4 days after being put on the transplant registry, my brother received a heart. I was thrilled when i got that call, saying he was having surgery that night to get his new heart. I'm not sure of a moment in time when i have felt happier and relieved than i did at that moment when i received that call. Complete joy and happiness, no complaints, no fear, no worry.
       I spent a large portion of the next day after his surgery sobbing in a crumpled mess in the backseat of my car.
       The procedure had gone perfectly well, his new heart was beating like a champ! my parents and i wanted to be there when they "woke him up", took him off his sedatives. So the three of us arrive, and don surgical masks and gloves (after sanitizing hands more than once) and brush past the curtain to see him. There he was. There. He. Was. Tubes protruding everywhere, bandages, monitors, PIC lines, you name it, he had it. He was "sleeping" under the sedative still, so he was incoherent. Looking at him, lying there, so huge, so pallid, so weak, so entangled in all this medical tubing draining gastric fluids or blood, or pumping medicines into his veins, and then there was his breathing tube. The savages left the breathing tube in while they tried to wake him up! imagine the terror that would ensue upon waking up with a pipe down your throat.
       I gazed upon this sight, taken aback by it all, really. Could this be the same little boy i used to run around with at the park when we were kids? Could it be the happy little child, always quick to smile and be of good cheer? i slowly walked over, arms shaking, and held his hand. Tubes that were draining blood were right at my feet. I shuddered and tried not to look. After he came-to a little bit and stopped flailing around trying to get the tube outta his throat, he calmed down, lay back down, and held my hand. I looked at his face. His gentle eyelashes were matted together with his wet tears... A single tear rolled down his cheek, and I knew he was in misery. Arm shaking, i stroked his forehead, told him things will be alright, and that i would return, and i loved him, and left to the lobby.
      Walking through the lobby, i could feel the tears streaming down my own face. I tried to walk quickly to my car so nobody would notice or stop me, but the tears just kept coming. To see him like that, my precious little angel from Heaven, in that state, it was too much for me.

                          I BROKE

All the confidence and calmness went out the window. Even though i knew he was in no real danger anymore, to see him suffer like that is what killed me. and so i lost it. I got to my car, crawled in the back seat, and i lost it. Why couldn't it have been me. It should be me on that hospital bed recovering from surgery. Why did this happen to begin with. I also have PTSD from medical traumas, so hospitals terrify me something fierce. i was also having flashbacks pretty badly that day, and had nightmares the previous night. It all became too much for me to bear, so i just cried and cried in my car. Crying out to God, beseeching Him to intervene and give brian the comfort that only God gives, to give my parents the strength they needed, to help me get over my own idiotic problems so i could better help my own brother. I thanked God, too, for all that He had done for my brother and family, and for all the opportunities that had been provided to share His glory. But i cried and prayed for a long time, and generally felt worse than i had felt in a long time. Time dragged on, eventually tears subsided and my eyes shut and fell victim to exhaustion. I slept for a while. Never very peaceful sleep, but when exhaustion sets in, you'll sleep anywhere.
     2-3 hours apparently pass. I'm still sleeping. All of a sudden, I get a knock on the window. Mind you, I'm in a parking structure in East LA. My first thoughts are "OMG it's the cops!" or even worse "Oh man i'ma get SHOT!!!" slowly and sleepily i looked out the window, only to behold the face of an angel.

                                                                    ::knock knock::

Sleepily i brushed my disheveled hair out of my face and slowly opened the door. In shock, all i could stupidly say was "what are you doing here?" and she replied with "i came here to give you an apple pop..." at which point tears welled back up in my eyes. She handed me the beloved caramel apple pop and sat in the back seat with me, and we talked for a long time. She put up with my nonsensical complaining and fears, and just listened, cried, and prayed with me. I never asked her to come down there that day. She showed up at perfect timing. Just when i was at my very lowest point, she is there, ready and willing to love and support me. I was overwhelmed with gratefulness that she is my friend. To be able to talk to someone openly, to vent, even, was such a relief to me. To feel that someone cared for ME was a huge relief to me. My parents were too stressed out with everything with my bro, it would have been tacky if i had gone to them with my problems. And i typically don't like talking about my problems to anyone else for fear of burdening them. But no, Sarah approached ME to make sure I was alright. And i was able to speak freely with her, listen to her input, take her advice, and get a grip again.

     I'm back on track again now. I have no fears, no worries regarding my brother's condition. hospitals still scare the bejeezuz outta me. it still hurts my back a lot to drive all the way down to USC and back every few days. and i'm still keeping up with school to the best of my abilities. but i'm back on track, and not letting it all stress me out anymore. I try and visit bri when i can, providing of course that i have no major school assignments due or my back isn't too terrible, i go and see him in his room. It still hurts me a lot to see him like that, in so much pain, so miserable... but God is good, and has restored control in my life again, and i think i can manage now. Also, God is good to bless me with such amazing friends as Sarah, who show up at literally JUST the right time. I will never forget that day, when an angel bearing a caramel apple pop showed up and made my life bearable again. <3

Hero

WHY MY BROTHER IS A HERO

A COMMENTARY ON THE AWESOMENESS OF MY BRIBRI BABYCAKES

           

            Spiderman got bit by a spider. It made him real sick. You got real sick, too. But spiderman got real cool powers after he finished being sick. Spiderman gave hope to a lot of people, just like you. Everyone thinks you’re awesome (I know I always tell you this anyways) and everyone loves you. We all want you to get better so you can do cool stuff. (maybe once you’re healed you can climb walls or something, that’d be cool.)

      
 You’re super cool like General Grievous from Star Wars. General Grievous also had a weak heart, but he was still awesome. (except he was bad. Don’t be bad.) General Grievous was a fighter, just like you. He never gave up, he just kept on fighting. That’s what I want you to do, just like you already are. Never ever give up!           

 Darth Vader is famous for having breathing troubles. You’ve got asthma. Darth Vader never let that stop him from being the galaxy’s coolest villain ever. The force is strong in you, my boy. Do or do not, there is no try. You must get better. The Galaxy needs you.

           





 Cyborg is part human, part robot. You’ve got a bunch of screws and stuff in your knee. That’s pretty cool. You’ve got so much hardware in ya, you’re like a walking home depot. But that’s pretty cool, you’ve got some pretty cool battle scars to show for it. Cyborg uses his powers for good, and doesn’t complain about his robo-parts, just like you don’t. you’ve got that crazy knee, but it doesn’t bother you. It just makes you cooler.

            Last but not least, Iron Man. Iron Man gets all the ladies (just like you!) AND he had to get a new heart (again, just like you!) Iron Man protects himself with his awesome suit, kind of like how you protect yourself with the armor of God. The difference between you and Iron Man, though, is that Iron Man is arrogant and selfish, but you’re the sweetest and most selfless person on the planet. You are so sweet and loving, even when you’re going through rough times, you still manage a smile, you still crack jokes, you still care about other people. And that’s why you’re better than Iron Man.

           


         Brian, you’re better than all those superheroes combined. You are so brave and courageous, you just keep on truckin’ through all of this without complaining. I am so proud of you, you have no idea. I always call you the baby, but you’re more of a man than anyone I know. You’re the kindest, sweetest, bravest, most courageous guy out there, and I’m proud of you for not losing hope through all of this. I know it’s scary sometimes, but please always know that God is there for you, to comfort you and support you. Stay strong and remember what Jesus went through on the cross for you; He died and suffered for YOU, my dear. He knows everything you’re going through, He’s always in control. Don’t lose sight of that. I love you so so very much, please always know it. I will ALWAYS be there for you, no matter what! You’re my beloved bribri babycakes, and you always will be. But you’re also my hero, and I want you to know that, too. You inspire me to be strong, even when it’s scary. I will always love you to the moon and back! You’re my precious angel from Heaven.

Love Always,

            ~your sidekick, Kristin

SPRING BREAK 2012!!!!!!!!!!1!11!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!1111!!!!!!!

Spring Break. Those two monosyllabic words inspire visions of crazy teens being reckless, living life to the fullest, getting drunk, playing beach volleyball in skimpy clothes, wildly dancing at raves or bonfires. Well, my spring break was pretty whack this year, if i do say so myself.

"PARTY AT MY PLACE!!!1!!1!111!" -parents were out of town. best friend and boyfriend were also out of town. Spent half the week at my house with just my bro.

"OH DUDE I GOT SO DRUNK!!1!1!!!!11!!!!" -had a glass of moscato. it was sub-par, at best.

"OH MAN I TOOK SO MANY DRUGS!!!!!1!!1!!!1!!1111!" -i took 4 advil one day cuz i had a killer headache.

"PARTY AT THE BEACH!!!!!!1111!!!!!!!!" -i actually did go to the beach. i fell asleep on the sand and forgot to tell my bro to wear sunscreen, so he got a killer burn on his legs.

"DANCE PARTY!!!!!!!!!!!!!1!1!!!!!!" -listened to the Beatles and sort of danced around. sort of.

"DUDE THAT WAS SO SICKK!!!1!1!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" -brian got pneumonia. he also got sick and i ended up cleaning vomit off the bathroom floor.

"I TOTALLY HOOKED UP WITH THAT ONE GUY!!!!!1!!!!!!!!!11!!!" -a hobo came to my door and asked me to give him cash or a check. I had neither so i turned him away.

"PARTY AT THE HOTEL!!!!!!!!!!!11!!!!!!!!!!1!" -spent saturday of spring break in ER with bro and family due to pneumonia.

"BREAK ALL THE RULES!!!!!!!!!!1!!!1!" -brian and i stayed up until 4am watching "scary" movies one night.

"DUDE I CAN'T EVEN REMEMBER WHAT HAPPENED LAST NIGHT!!!!!!!!!1!!!!!!" -i literally forgot because i did nothing worth remembering.

"REMEMBER WHEN THAT ONE GUY GOT SO JACKED UP?!11?/!1/???" -my dad and i were cutting down a tree in the backyard and he fell out of the tree and hurt his back.

"DUDE THINGS GOT OUT OF CONTROL!!1!!!" -the dog got out one time. it took me like, ten minutes to get him back.

"I TOTALLY DIDN'T DO ANY WORK OVER THE BREAK, MAN!!!!!!!!1!!!1!!!!" -it's true, neither did i.

my spring break wasn't super epic or crazy. but it was still pretty great (aside from brian getting pneumonia, of course) and i had a lot of opportunities to just get away and meditate for a while. it was nice and peaceful, for the most part, and Good Friday and Easter were great as always.