The countdown is officially on and I plan on using this blog more often as a way for people to know what's going on with me while I am in New York.
So the plan is that my dad will fly out to Tucson sometime between March 13 and March 16, then we will make the LOOOOOONG drive back to Rochester, NY. I have appointments to meet two surgeons in New York City and Long Island on March 31 where I will hopefully hear the good news that I will be getting a gastric stimulator implanted! That's kinda the whole point of going.
I am excited to be in Rochester during the summer because I have never experienced a summer in New York. I will also be reuniting with some friends I went to school with which so exciting!! I can't wait to see them!
I do worry a little bit about leaving. Firstly, it is going to be very hard for my mom who can't be with me. I also don't really know anyone living in Rochester, so I am predicting recovery will be a little bit harder.

Stay Tuned!

My Cure For Insomnia

I will cure my insomnia by telling boring stories of my life as of late. I mean, I just went to google something, and in the google box it automatically filled in "calcified fetus". Um, yeah, I really would like to know what that is. But more than that I want to see the pictures. So I clicked on the little "image" box and... BEHOLD... a calcified fetus. It was so, so... what's the word... engrossing. I think I stared at it for like five minutes, before continuing to search for more calcified fetus'. This woman had one for THREE years. She's like "Yeah, I got pregnant three years ago or so, but the baby never came out." Hmm.... wonder where it went? Did it just fall out and walk away, all fetus-y, "Peace out mom, thanks for the free rent!" No! No! This did not happen. The thing turned to stone and she waited THREE WHOLE LONG NASTY CALCIFIED YEARS! It's aweful to me. And it probably smelled bad. I am not doing well with smells. This whole nausea thing has got to stop sometime. Because now I start to imagine how bad something smells and how bad it could make me sick. Like check out tonsil stones. They too are aweful, and they're caused by some sulfur producing bacteria (or something like that) that along with craters in your tonsils and food particles, they get trapped. I find it wretched because I get them! Sulfur is horrible smelling! So I made an appointment to get my tonsils out because I've had this nausea thing for a good solid 7 months, and I can't deal with those nasty little things. Which, by the way, aren't always little. I pray that the ENT man will say "Yes April, we will remove yet another part of your body." I think I'm going to google that. See what it looks like during surgery. I've got to imagine you'd have the world's worst sore throat... and I am sick of pain.... hmmmm... pain, or sulfur death? Pain. I can handle pain. You could walk right up to me, punch me square in the forehead, and I would look back at you and say "Good day to you sir". And it wouldn't faze me. Or it might. The other reaction could go a little something like "AOOOWWWWWWW!!" followed by tears and moaning. And then anger. And then revenge. But not revenge, cuz Jesus said love your neighbor. So I would say to my neighbor that just punched me, "I love you. But I do not like you."
I believe that was quite a rant, enough to put me to bed like a baby.

Me so scared

Ann is talking to the dishwasher... I'm afraid. Very afraid. Maybe I should go back up to my cave where it's safe?

Freak Show Participant

I have a weird sore on my tongue. Like my taste bud is on the verge of exploding. Which reminds me of the time I drank a bunch of pepto-bismol and then my tongue turned black as night. Sometimes I like to make it turn black on purpose. That's how I'm going to make my way into the freak show. Although, there are other ways to achieve that goal. I'm going to stop there. And you should too.

ARG it didn't work. what a buncha crap!

I will kill you little bloggy if you don't do as i command!

It's a new day I'm experimenting with this blog thing. Supposedly it should be posted after my last posts. If not, I'm going to pull my hair out. Or just call it a night and hit the hay. Same difference.

falling to my death

This blog has been designed intentionally to bring humor to my less than humorous situation. But I can't help but still feeling like writing seriously rather than humorously. With that said, I think some of the more humorous things that happen to me are when I am medicated. I just get these weird, bizarro thoughts. Like walking down to the kitchen to grab a drink in someone elses house in the middle of the night has prompted the following scenario to develop:
So I needed a drink and the house is dark. Very dark. I might suggest that the Miller's invest in night lights. And as I'm walking down the stairs in the pitch blackness I wonder what would happen if I tripped or fell somehow. What would go through my mind as I tumbled down the stairs? And what would I do if, say, I broke my legs or something that would make getting up impossible. Should I lay at the bottom of the stairs and get comfortable until morning time when I will be discovered. Or should I shout for help? That would just be weird. "Hey guys... can you hear me? I'm stuck down here at the bottom of the stairs... guys??" That would just be dumb. Plus, I would feel badly for waking the family up in the middle of the night. I could drag my pathetic body over to the couch and just sleep it off. That's a decent option. I could perform an amputation of my arm. That would have nothing to do with the actual fall or the broken leg. It would just keep me occupied. Here's an even better thought. What if I got knocked unconscious? Picture me on the floor, out like a lamp, and someone else decides they too need to come down for a middle-of-the-night beverage and they step on me! No, no... they don't step on me. They trip over me and land right on their head, and now they too are unconscious, laying in a pool of blood from the laceration on their head that they sustained from the fall. Now there are two bodies at the bottom of the stairs. And when morning finally arrives what will the person who discovers the two bodies think? "Oh my gosh! What's going on here?? Better get my poking stick to start prodding them awake." 9-1-1 isn't an option...why? Because I said so. I make these scenarios up and I can do whatever I want. Only to find out that April has actually died. She went peacefully in her sleep, so no need for tears. As for the second victim, it turns out there will be no long term effects. Just emotionally scarred.
In conclusion, I would just like to say that until those night lights get installed I will not be venturing out into the wilderness in search of drink. You should take my advice on that one too. Don't go wandering around someone else's house in the middle of the night. You may end up dead at the bottom of their staircase.
You know something, I just remembered being at a friends house and tripping down her stairs, tumbling to the bottom and landing right in the doorway of her roommates bedroom. Talk about embarrassing. And slightly awkward. We kinda just looked at each other and I crawled away.
I could always invest in one of those elderly person's medical alert bracelet... "Help! I've fallen and I can't get up!"