(no subject)
Aug. 6th, 2002 12:49 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rootofnewti'm told that when i was two, i announced my intention to be an avon lady when i grew up. i don't remember this, but i do remember my babysitter--an avon lady who would take me on her house visits (only to households which welcomed children, of course).
when i was 11, i wanted to be a church organist... someplace with a lovely pipe organ, like the national cathedral.
when i was 12, i declared i would be a nuclear physicist or quantum mechanist.
i continued on my happy way for the next few years, eventually landing at a school for the academically advanced (and terminally horny) in indiana for my last two years of high school. it was there that i picked up russian.
the summer between my junior and senior years of high school, i did three things: i went to russia for two weeks, i worked as a housekeeper at the local state park, and i went to sweden on the Wider Ops Girl Scout program.
On the day I was due to leave for Chicago for pre-Sweden prep stuff, I found myself flipping through recent mail. Most of my mail was typical--letter from the boyfriend, letter from a penpal, and about a wastebasket's worth of college lures. I was prepared to toss all the college stuff into the trash (I received two grocery bags' worth a *MONTH* back then and was sick of the stuff) when something drew me to to a large, plain envelope from some college i'd never heard of. inside was a pastel brochure for american university and an application.
I looked up at mom and told her that I was going there and asked her to add it to the paperwork I needed on my desk (she was going to move me into my school for my senior year as my flight back from sweden arrived on the night of my first day of RA training prior to the semester). She looked puzzled, asked me what happened to physics and why I wanted to go to a liberal arts school. Then she informed me that i was NOT going to school in DC and it didn't matter anyway, because AU is a horribly expensive private school.
i just looked at her and told her i was majoring in russian.
russian was the FIRST class i ever failed. i got a nice big F for the first semester. i technically earned a D, but the instructor later told me that she wanted to teach me a lesson. i never opened the book, i barely passed the tests. and i was so pissed off at my self when i saw the grade that i decided then and there to stick with it. and i did. i earned an A for the second semester, then went to Russia with a small class for the May Term.
so, when i came home from sweden, mom met me at the airport. she bought me dinner and dropped me off at school. i hugged a few friends and the resident director ordered me to bed before i died from jet lag. i set my big ol' internal frame backpack down and collapsed in my chair, noting the application sitting there. i filled it out the next day, typed up my essay, all that fun stuff. i mailed it off for early decision. mom had left a note asking me to please not forget to finish the applications for the science schools, but i just filled them out half-heartedly.
that semester, i took second year russian concurrently with first semester russian and i tutored first semester russian. this enabled me to erase that nasty F. i got A's and told my instructor that i wanted to major in russian. she encouranged me to go for it.
in october, dad and i visited AU. it was an overnight admission informational type thing. i was given to a senior student living in the international dorm. she was majoring in russian. as we were riding the elevator up, she looked at me askance and asked whether i wanted to go out that night. i knew they'd called her up after someone else cancelled and she looked kind of worried. i told her that i had a russian exam in two days and really just wanted to study. i hoped that my reply wouldn't upset her, but i shouldn't have worried. she was so relieved because she, too, was studying for a russian exam. ;) we passed the night away snacking and studying and chatting about various participles.
after the visit, dad went home and told mom that i could go if i got enough scholarships. mom maintained that her baby would NOT be moving to DC.
well, i got in on a national merit scholarship, despite falling asleep during the PSAT (i had no clue the test i was taking was important, after all, i'd been taking the SAT for five years at this point). AU offered full tuition to national merit scholars back then, so off i went.
i was thrilled to be at AU. i met a beautiful boy (another long drawn out story that starts with my story of picking up the AU packet, starting a chain of synchronicity). my first semester, i found myself interning at the Embassy of Georgia. my second, i became more involved with the AU ambassador program (students who work with admissions staff to give tours, presentations, etc, to prospective students/parents and other campus visitors). i even gave tours in russian a few times. i was taking a heavy courseload and didn't want an internship that year, so i didn't have one.
junior year, i went to russia. prior to leaving, i had a series of vaccinations. shortly after, i ended up really sick with an all-over headcold from hell. i brushed it off as allergies. my doctor put me on prednisone and antibiotics and sulfa and it cleared up in a couple weeks. i took the train to philly to spend a week with boy before leaving for russia.
russia was wonderful. i had fun. i went to school at the old MGU building in downtown moscow, across the street from the kremlin. i interned for the russian association of girl guides and girl scouts. i learned so much. i fell in love and swore i'd be back.
i decided that i would finish school and then take the foreign service exam. a few professors at AU had already told me that i should have no problem passing the first two levels (written and oral) by the time i finished with my undergrad studies. if i passed it, i'd think about the foreign service, but i'd likely opt for signing up for the peace corps for a couple years. or i'd go to grad school. i was seriously considering all three options.
i came home from russia. i caught up with boy, met some of his new friends, washed my grimy clothing, and went back on the pill (i took a four-month hiatus while in moscow).
around christmas, i went out somewhere with my grandma. we were in florida, perhaps a walmart parking lot. grandma peered closely at me and said in typical catty southern fashion, "well, you always had such pretty skin. i don't understand why you're breaking out now. don't suppose you'll ever get a man if you don't take care of yourself."
i told her it was probably sunburn and that i didn't need a man.
thing is, the rash didn't go away. it wasn't sunburn. it hurt too much. it was rough and slightly raised. it wasn't acne.
and in january, when i returned to school, it got worse. as the weather warmed in february and i went without gloves, my hands started reacting... in march, my upper chest started to look the same. by now, my face was a mess. i was also feeling horrendous.
i blamed dry skin for the rashes and my allergies for the under the weather bit. i was so sick. i'd forget where my classes were held. i wouldn't be able to get out of bed without blacking out.
i saw a dermatologist at some point who eventually realized i was reacting to sunlight and UV light.
i took a few incompletes that semester. in very early may, i started feeling better. i wanted to stay in DC for the summer, so i took a nanny position. my beautiful boy roomed with some friends in "the house".
that summer was great. i felt good. my skin cleared up with judicious use of sunblock and parasols/gloves, etc. i wasn't sick. i took on a part-time job at AU in the office of the registrar. i could drop my charge off at day camp, walk to AU, and work all day. it was perfect.
that fall, i did really well until september 27, 1997. i only remember the day because it was boy's birthday *and* my charge was having a birthday party (sleepover party delayed from august). i woke up with the worst flu, ever. i could barely stand up, couldn't stay awake, and secluded myself in my room so i wouldn't infect everyone.
i was miserable, but i figured i'd be okay the next day or by monday at the very latest. i never got sick for long.
well, the flu didn't go away.
and it got worse.
i'd forget where i was. i'd be delerious. i'd be coherent enough to drive my charge to school, but i'd forget how to drive home. i'd wander the grocery store in my robe and coat, picking up groceries... i'd go home and go back to bed. i'd forget what classes i held, much less where they were held. i misplaced several *finished* term papers more than once, necessitating rewriting the whole thing. i found one of these essays between my mattress and the box springs months later.
the brain fog was the worst, but i was also in severe pain. it was an all over body ache that didn't cease--ever. certain spots would throb. i was exhausted. i was overwhelmed. my studies suffered (obviously) and i ended up with more incompletes.
in october, i went to a doctor. she thought i just had a flu, despite my being sick for a month, but she referred me to an infectious disease specialist. that doctor was kind and diligent and did every test she could think of and a few more she looked up. she found nothing wrong and sent me on to a gastroenterologist and a rheumatologist.
the rheumy diagnosed me with fibromyalgia in january. a couple months later, i was still ill, so chronic fatigue and immune dysfunction syndrome (CFIDS) was added. i had a long-standing Multiple Chemical Sensitivity (MCS) diagnosis (age 16) already, though that had never limited me as much as it eventually would.
needless to say, i barely scraped through those last two semesters. i had too many incompletes and didn't finish them all. i was offered a full-time job in the registrar's office in may. i took it, since i could take up to 20 credits a year.
i moved on from the nanny position, moving in with boy and some friends. by now, i was doing a little better. i was on meds for the fibro and was even exercising a little. by august, i was feeling pretty good. i was still in pain, but i could function.
in august, the UV-specific dermatologist (i started seeing him in the spring) decided to treat my reactions aggressively. he put me on plaquenil.
in two days, i crashed. it was september all over again. i was miserable. and after three weeks, i didn't improve. i was getting steadily worse. so i stopped taking it.
and that was that.
in spring of 1999, my academic advisor called and asked when i was going to finish my degree. i had two credits remaining. i told him that i couldn't handle grad level russian yet. that was when he told me my last two credits could be electives. i had already fulfilled my major requirements and didn't need anything for it or my minor. so i told him to sign me up for calculus.
i think he was a little stunned. if it's possible to hear silent shock over the phone, i heard it. after a few seconds, he stuttered briefly and then repeated me: "Calculus. You can't think straight and you want to take CALCULUS. Jos, please tell me you're joking."
I told him that calculus was an easy A for me and that I actually felt a little guilty taking it. I explained that my brain is hard-wired for math.
I took it. Boy took it, too. I stopped taking one of my fibro meds (wellbutrin, for sleep and cognitive dysfunction) and discovered i thought better without it. i did discover that i actually have to learn how to do math now. it used to be intuitive, i could look at something and know the answer, but not really know how i got there. these days, i have to think it through. it takes a little longer, but i can deal.
i ended up officially graduating that summer semester. boy and i were married in october. the following march, i left my job. i was too sick to work and my coworkers didn't make things easier on me. they were overly perfumey and insisted that nothing "which smells so good" could possibly make me sick. they sprayed lysol in the office. it was bad. so i left. i was getting too sick to work and was out of sick days.
i've not worked since. i'm still pretty sick. some days are better than others. i'm slowly feeling better. getting out of a toxic, moldy apartment has helped a little. returning to the country has helped. getting a large lump of good removed from my mediastinal area has helped. no doubt my immune system is happier without that mass of inflammation.
and that mass might be to blame for my illnesses. of course, the hepatitis vaccine, polio booster, and birth control could all be to blame, too. maybe it was something in russia... i doubt i'll ever know.
if i do get better, i don't know what i'll do. i don't want to go into the foreign service or the peace corps now. i don't want to be so far away from boy. we once thought that i'd work while he wrote. now he works while i rot. okay, i don't rot, but sometimes i feel that way.
i might go back to school for degrees in physics. maybe i'd get a teaching certification. of course, right now, i can't consider teaching as most schools have horrible indoor air quality.
i guess this is really just one version of how i got where i am. i could probably tell the story with infinite variations as i remember different things each time. i could look at it from different angles. for now, however, this will do.
∞
when i was 11, i wanted to be a church organist... someplace with a lovely pipe organ, like the national cathedral.
when i was 12, i declared i would be a nuclear physicist or quantum mechanist.
i continued on my happy way for the next few years, eventually landing at a school for the academically advanced (and terminally horny) in indiana for my last two years of high school. it was there that i picked up russian.
the summer between my junior and senior years of high school, i did three things: i went to russia for two weeks, i worked as a housekeeper at the local state park, and i went to sweden on the Wider Ops Girl Scout program.
On the day I was due to leave for Chicago for pre-Sweden prep stuff, I found myself flipping through recent mail. Most of my mail was typical--letter from the boyfriend, letter from a penpal, and about a wastebasket's worth of college lures. I was prepared to toss all the college stuff into the trash (I received two grocery bags' worth a *MONTH* back then and was sick of the stuff) when something drew me to to a large, plain envelope from some college i'd never heard of. inside was a pastel brochure for american university and an application.
I looked up at mom and told her that I was going there and asked her to add it to the paperwork I needed on my desk (she was going to move me into my school for my senior year as my flight back from sweden arrived on the night of my first day of RA training prior to the semester). She looked puzzled, asked me what happened to physics and why I wanted to go to a liberal arts school. Then she informed me that i was NOT going to school in DC and it didn't matter anyway, because AU is a horribly expensive private school.
i just looked at her and told her i was majoring in russian.
russian was the FIRST class i ever failed. i got a nice big F for the first semester. i technically earned a D, but the instructor later told me that she wanted to teach me a lesson. i never opened the book, i barely passed the tests. and i was so pissed off at my self when i saw the grade that i decided then and there to stick with it. and i did. i earned an A for the second semester, then went to Russia with a small class for the May Term.
so, when i came home from sweden, mom met me at the airport. she bought me dinner and dropped me off at school. i hugged a few friends and the resident director ordered me to bed before i died from jet lag. i set my big ol' internal frame backpack down and collapsed in my chair, noting the application sitting there. i filled it out the next day, typed up my essay, all that fun stuff. i mailed it off for early decision. mom had left a note asking me to please not forget to finish the applications for the science schools, but i just filled them out half-heartedly.
that semester, i took second year russian concurrently with first semester russian and i tutored first semester russian. this enabled me to erase that nasty F. i got A's and told my instructor that i wanted to major in russian. she encouranged me to go for it.
in october, dad and i visited AU. it was an overnight admission informational type thing. i was given to a senior student living in the international dorm. she was majoring in russian. as we were riding the elevator up, she looked at me askance and asked whether i wanted to go out that night. i knew they'd called her up after someone else cancelled and she looked kind of worried. i told her that i had a russian exam in two days and really just wanted to study. i hoped that my reply wouldn't upset her, but i shouldn't have worried. she was so relieved because she, too, was studying for a russian exam. ;) we passed the night away snacking and studying and chatting about various participles.
after the visit, dad went home and told mom that i could go if i got enough scholarships. mom maintained that her baby would NOT be moving to DC.
well, i got in on a national merit scholarship, despite falling asleep during the PSAT (i had no clue the test i was taking was important, after all, i'd been taking the SAT for five years at this point). AU offered full tuition to national merit scholars back then, so off i went.
i was thrilled to be at AU. i met a beautiful boy (another long drawn out story that starts with my story of picking up the AU packet, starting a chain of synchronicity). my first semester, i found myself interning at the Embassy of Georgia. my second, i became more involved with the AU ambassador program (students who work with admissions staff to give tours, presentations, etc, to prospective students/parents and other campus visitors). i even gave tours in russian a few times. i was taking a heavy courseload and didn't want an internship that year, so i didn't have one.
junior year, i went to russia. prior to leaving, i had a series of vaccinations. shortly after, i ended up really sick with an all-over headcold from hell. i brushed it off as allergies. my doctor put me on prednisone and antibiotics and sulfa and it cleared up in a couple weeks. i took the train to philly to spend a week with boy before leaving for russia.
russia was wonderful. i had fun. i went to school at the old MGU building in downtown moscow, across the street from the kremlin. i interned for the russian association of girl guides and girl scouts. i learned so much. i fell in love and swore i'd be back.
i decided that i would finish school and then take the foreign service exam. a few professors at AU had already told me that i should have no problem passing the first two levels (written and oral) by the time i finished with my undergrad studies. if i passed it, i'd think about the foreign service, but i'd likely opt for signing up for the peace corps for a couple years. or i'd go to grad school. i was seriously considering all three options.
i came home from russia. i caught up with boy, met some of his new friends, washed my grimy clothing, and went back on the pill (i took a four-month hiatus while in moscow).
around christmas, i went out somewhere with my grandma. we were in florida, perhaps a walmart parking lot. grandma peered closely at me and said in typical catty southern fashion, "well, you always had such pretty skin. i don't understand why you're breaking out now. don't suppose you'll ever get a man if you don't take care of yourself."
i told her it was probably sunburn and that i didn't need a man.
thing is, the rash didn't go away. it wasn't sunburn. it hurt too much. it was rough and slightly raised. it wasn't acne.
and in january, when i returned to school, it got worse. as the weather warmed in february and i went without gloves, my hands started reacting... in march, my upper chest started to look the same. by now, my face was a mess. i was also feeling horrendous.
i blamed dry skin for the rashes and my allergies for the under the weather bit. i was so sick. i'd forget where my classes were held. i wouldn't be able to get out of bed without blacking out.
i saw a dermatologist at some point who eventually realized i was reacting to sunlight and UV light.
i took a few incompletes that semester. in very early may, i started feeling better. i wanted to stay in DC for the summer, so i took a nanny position. my beautiful boy roomed with some friends in "the house".
that summer was great. i felt good. my skin cleared up with judicious use of sunblock and parasols/gloves, etc. i wasn't sick. i took on a part-time job at AU in the office of the registrar. i could drop my charge off at day camp, walk to AU, and work all day. it was perfect.
that fall, i did really well until september 27, 1997. i only remember the day because it was boy's birthday *and* my charge was having a birthday party (sleepover party delayed from august). i woke up with the worst flu, ever. i could barely stand up, couldn't stay awake, and secluded myself in my room so i wouldn't infect everyone.
i was miserable, but i figured i'd be okay the next day or by monday at the very latest. i never got sick for long.
well, the flu didn't go away.
and it got worse.
i'd forget where i was. i'd be delerious. i'd be coherent enough to drive my charge to school, but i'd forget how to drive home. i'd wander the grocery store in my robe and coat, picking up groceries... i'd go home and go back to bed. i'd forget what classes i held, much less where they were held. i misplaced several *finished* term papers more than once, necessitating rewriting the whole thing. i found one of these essays between my mattress and the box springs months later.
the brain fog was the worst, but i was also in severe pain. it was an all over body ache that didn't cease--ever. certain spots would throb. i was exhausted. i was overwhelmed. my studies suffered (obviously) and i ended up with more incompletes.
in october, i went to a doctor. she thought i just had a flu, despite my being sick for a month, but she referred me to an infectious disease specialist. that doctor was kind and diligent and did every test she could think of and a few more she looked up. she found nothing wrong and sent me on to a gastroenterologist and a rheumatologist.
the rheumy diagnosed me with fibromyalgia in january. a couple months later, i was still ill, so chronic fatigue and immune dysfunction syndrome (CFIDS) was added. i had a long-standing Multiple Chemical Sensitivity (MCS) diagnosis (age 16) already, though that had never limited me as much as it eventually would.
needless to say, i barely scraped through those last two semesters. i had too many incompletes and didn't finish them all. i was offered a full-time job in the registrar's office in may. i took it, since i could take up to 20 credits a year.
i moved on from the nanny position, moving in with boy and some friends. by now, i was doing a little better. i was on meds for the fibro and was even exercising a little. by august, i was feeling pretty good. i was still in pain, but i could function.
in august, the UV-specific dermatologist (i started seeing him in the spring) decided to treat my reactions aggressively. he put me on plaquenil.
in two days, i crashed. it was september all over again. i was miserable. and after three weeks, i didn't improve. i was getting steadily worse. so i stopped taking it.
and that was that.
in spring of 1999, my academic advisor called and asked when i was going to finish my degree. i had two credits remaining. i told him that i couldn't handle grad level russian yet. that was when he told me my last two credits could be electives. i had already fulfilled my major requirements and didn't need anything for it or my minor. so i told him to sign me up for calculus.
i think he was a little stunned. if it's possible to hear silent shock over the phone, i heard it. after a few seconds, he stuttered briefly and then repeated me: "Calculus. You can't think straight and you want to take CALCULUS. Jos, please tell me you're joking."
I told him that calculus was an easy A for me and that I actually felt a little guilty taking it. I explained that my brain is hard-wired for math.
I took it. Boy took it, too. I stopped taking one of my fibro meds (wellbutrin, for sleep and cognitive dysfunction) and discovered i thought better without it. i did discover that i actually have to learn how to do math now. it used to be intuitive, i could look at something and know the answer, but not really know how i got there. these days, i have to think it through. it takes a little longer, but i can deal.
i ended up officially graduating that summer semester. boy and i were married in october. the following march, i left my job. i was too sick to work and my coworkers didn't make things easier on me. they were overly perfumey and insisted that nothing "which smells so good" could possibly make me sick. they sprayed lysol in the office. it was bad. so i left. i was getting too sick to work and was out of sick days.
i've not worked since. i'm still pretty sick. some days are better than others. i'm slowly feeling better. getting out of a toxic, moldy apartment has helped a little. returning to the country has helped. getting a large lump of good removed from my mediastinal area has helped. no doubt my immune system is happier without that mass of inflammation.
and that mass might be to blame for my illnesses. of course, the hepatitis vaccine, polio booster, and birth control could all be to blame, too. maybe it was something in russia... i doubt i'll ever know.
if i do get better, i don't know what i'll do. i don't want to go into the foreign service or the peace corps now. i don't want to be so far away from boy. we once thought that i'd work while he wrote. now he works while i rot. okay, i don't rot, but sometimes i feel that way.
i might go back to school for degrees in physics. maybe i'd get a teaching certification. of course, right now, i can't consider teaching as most schools have horrible indoor air quality.
i guess this is really just one version of how i got where i am. i could probably tell the story with infinite variations as i remember different things each time. i could look at it from different angles. for now, however, this will do.
∞
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2002-08-05 10:56 pm (UTC)ps - russian was the first class i ever failed too. i loved the challenge of it.
no subject
Date: 2002-08-06 07:38 am (UTC)**hugs**
-- Andi
no subject
Date: 2002-08-06 07:42 am (UTC)Happiness Pie
by Death Lurks
Happiness and sunbeams
and cute little puppy dogs,
these are the things
that I've seen with my heart.
Life is a happy game
if you don't forget to smile.
But every now and then,
your face, it harbors a frown.
Sadness is a barnacle,
clinging on your bright boat.
You won't let it sink your spirits
if you'll only learn to flow.
We are all sea captains
sailing on life's rough seas
Come on you Magellans,
come with me, I've got pie.
Happiness pie!
I guess you're wondering what's in this pie.
Well, there's two cups love,
a cup and a half of understanding,
a tablespoon of good old-fashioned compassion,
sugar to taste,
and you know what?
The ovens are our hearts.
Happiness pie.
See the sad man in the corner.
He is gross and he is old.
People steal his shoes
and make him eat mold.
His life won't be bad
if he does what he is told.
He should be an alchemist
and turn his pain into gold.
-- golden pie!
Happy tailors,
happy workers,
happy farmers,
happy girls.
Happy widowers,
happy free-lance artists,
happy welders,
happy world.
Happy drinkers,
happy thinkers,
happy musicians,
happy beauticians.
Happy mares,
happy pears,
happy congos,
happy hula boys.
Happiness pie!
P-p-p-p-p-pie!
Happiness pie!
P-p-p-p-p-p-p-p-pie!
Happiness pie!
no subject
Date: 2002-08-06 08:27 am (UTC)i'm glad you're feeling better than you were.
*hugs*
wow...
no subject
Date: 2002-08-07 05:56 pm (UTC)*huggles*