Usually I have some kind of rhyme or reason or theme to these posts but today I’ve have felt “bleh” and not really inspired to write. I usually spend a few days thinking about what will go into it and have my mind set by a certain time. But not today.

Today was very different. As was this whole last week. In short, it went something like this: Monday I had to prep for my test on Tuesday which meant eating hard boiled eggs, white rice, and grilled fish. I had a chiropractor appointment. and went to bed at 8pm. I ‘woke up’ at 430am to get ready to leave by 530 to be on time for my appointment at 8. I drank a cup of some clearish liquid and then spent the next two hours sitting in an nutritionists office, breathing into a special test bag  (i have no idea what its called) every 15 minutes. I got sick. what a surprise. had to run to the bathroom a couple times during the test. as if you really wanted to know that. sorry. I saw the doctor right after my test and he said “all it showed was a flat line” thats great dude now tell me what it means. It didn’t mean anything. It was another inconclusive test. WHAT A SURPRISE. He prescribed me two antibiotics that I will be on for 3 weeks. If it helps I won’t know for a week. (which will be Thursday) but in the mean time he still wants to do the endoscopy, thats scheduled for Tuesday morning at 7. We (mom sister and I) went to Native Foods and I chowed down on some delicious vegan cuisine. knowing full well that I would probably become violently ill because of it. In my defense, I only ate half the sandwich. and the fries. and some nachos. I hope you’re laughing. We got back to Camarillo about 130 and with just enough time to get my stuff together and head out to pick up Arlene and drive to Bakersfield for Tip-a-Condor. We got to my dads house about 4 and played with the dogs for a few minutes until my dad got there. We chatted for a little bit before heading out. I was excited and getting giddy. as i assume any 23 year old girl would when she’s about to be around other 23 year olds (and younger and older) hockey players. but maybe thats just me. *insert blushing face emoji* We had a great time, I haven’t laughed that much in months. I made a fool of myself a few times. but I think it paid off. at least I was myself. Arlene and I left for home about 9pm after going on a short adventure around Bakersfield. Wednesday I was still very giddy and full of joy. I went to some doctors appointments for my grandma and went to lunch with her and my mom and step-grandpa. When we got home my moms husband had found her a new car that he wanted to go check out, I wanted to go but they wouldn’t be back before I had to leave for church. Good thing, because I got sick from lunch. I slept on the couch for a few hours ( I think) while my sister came to hang out with me. sorry dude, it seems like every time she comes to hangout with me I’m prepping for a new test or am sick and having a hard time staying awake. I woke up just in time to get changed and make myself look somewhat presentable and headed off to church.  Wednesday nights are one of my favorite nights because I get to spend time with other young adults that love Jesus and it just fills me up. Worship that night was incredible, you could feel the presence of the Lord in the room, it was overwhelming. After a great word on compromise in relationships a group of us headed out to the one and only IN-N-OUT. I don’t know how but somehow we always end up eating out and its usually between in-n-out, bjs, yard house, kabuki, and rarely, toppers. Its always a good time, always worth it. Thursday was another chiropractor appointment and I finally talked my mother into going with me. considering she was in that bike accident in November and then the car accident  a few weeks ago, her body was “all jacked up” as she put it. We spent 3 hours there. totally worth it. She and Matt had bible study classes that night so I just did boring things like, have a solo dance party to Hillsong young and free and watch three episodes of This Is Us, and then paint my nails. Friday I had all planned out (that never works I don’t know why I try to plan things) I took my car for an oil change and got sick while waiting. Then I was told that the rattling I’ve been hearing is not a good thing (I knew that) and I needed to get it fixed right away. 200 dollars and 4 hours later I was finally on my way to Bakersfield for hockey. I was afraid that I would get sick on the two hour drive there but thank you Jesus I didn’t. I met my dad and sister at the game and had a great time with a comeback win against ontario. greattttttttt game. for real. good job condors. and with the roadrunners losing that night we were one point out of a playoff spot. Saturday I got sick again right after taking my antibiotics, at least thats what I’m blaming it on. And spent the morning running a few errands around town before heading home to rest before the game. We watched the kings beat the crap out of the ducks. with jon quick back. wow. got ready and left for the game, we parked behind this restaurant where we always park and as we walked around towards the front dad got called by Danny (a guy that sits next to us) to go have a drink. I took my ticket and headed into the game by myself. I watched warm ups and went to my seat. (that is a very boring sentence) blah blah blah basically. We played Stockton and beat them too. putting the condors in a playoff spot (for now.) a great effort by both teams but obviously we were the better team. We stayed to have a player sign a shirt for my sister. and that was it. I left at 730 this morning to make it to church at 10. I didn’t get too sick this morning which was nice. I went to lunch with Margaret and Morgan, and after a long chat we decided that we were all tired and needed a nap. I got home and grabbed my mail and went upstairs to find my mother in her sewing room, this is going nowhere. this is a very boring post. sorry. my mind is in a different place, it has been completely different since Tuesday night.

Here is some interesting stuff.

I hate bananas. every once in a while I’ll walk by the fruit basket, which for some odd reason only ever has bananas in it, and ill try to convince myself that bananas are a good thing and that I like them. so I’ll proceed to open one and take a bite. only to remember that I actually hate bananas. BUT. this week. well the last three days I’ve had 4. FOUR. I just told my mom “I knew I was sick, but didnt think I was that sick.” I’d like to think there is some medical reason behind this, like I’m lacking in potassium or magnesium. I probably am, so lets go with that.

this year was the first time I’ve been able to attend tip-a-condor. its a great event the organization does every year to benefit a charity. the players become waiters for the night and bring you food and drinks and you tip them. this was the first year I was able to go because they’ve never had a vegetarian option, and with having to pre pay for your meal  I could never go. plus I’ve always felt weird about not eating  when everyone around me is eating. So I was excited for two reasons, I could eat (kinda) and I finally wasn’t in the hospital for something fun. There is something so intimidating about being around guys that you are older than or the same age as that pretty much have their lives figured out. But in reality they are human. WHAT! NO WAY. they aren’t. I promise. When God made them he put a little dash of something else in their genes. good guys for the most part I guess. I’m rambling. SO anyway, I talked to one of them for a little bit about Ventura and such and he told me about his friend that opened a coffee house with a european flair and how he was just there a couple days ago. I didn’t know what place he was talking about at first until I looked it up the next day and had that “OH that place!” moment. Ive seen it a million times and never been. I guess thats because Spencer Mackenzie’s is down the street and after a morning of paddle boarding I always thought fried fish and beer sounded better than coffee and a sandwich. the american in me is showing. thanks for the recommendation David, I plan to go this week.

Ive had incredible ups and downs this week and its amazing how low my lows have been and yet I can still get myself out of them.

Wednesday night I almost cried myself to sleep because of the pain. stupid fries. stupid sandwiches from days before. I haven’t slept a whole night through since… I don’t even remember when. Tuesday I didn’t really sleep at all because my knee was killing me. I guess I should go get that MRI this week so I can finally schedule surgery. Thursday I was in an incredible amount of pain because the chiropractor tried to adjust my hiatal hernia. that was a bad idea. my whole upper abdomen is so sensitive to any touch.

A good amount of my lows have been due to the medical bills that are coming non stop in the mail. and so far I’ve added the ones I have and its about 6,000 dollars. thats not counting the ones I got today for 50, 900, and 700. But I have to trust that God will help me through this because I have no idea what else to do.

As I sit here writing I’m thinking about all the people that I don’t see on a weekly basis and that have asked for updates and I have failed them. Sorry Coach. Sorry Krystle. Sorry Suzi. Sorry Cathy. sorry to anyone else I’m forgetting.

one thing thats been hard for me is maintaining my weight. that was never a problem for me before. but since I have so much trouble eating, I in turn have trouble putting on weight. the weight doesn’t really bother me. its the shivering at night or the baggy clothes or the night sweats because i wore sweat pants and a sweater and now I’m too hot so i put on a t shirt and shorts but now I’m too cold. and my joints. my poor old lady joints. my hands are always freezing. so are my feet.

last night after the game my dad and I had a small snack in the kitchen with the dogs until Q (our 4 year old pitt bull) freaked out about a dog barking down the street. We always try to encourage her to ‘whisper’ but not completely freak out trying to find the barking dog. so last night we had her sit in the middle of the kitchen and talked to her. My dad got her to calm down to the point that he would ask her what she was barking at and without getting up she would just look up at him and ‘talk’ back. they had about a 5 minute conversation that was like nothing I’ve ver heard from Q.  It amazes me how smart she and Olive (our havenese mix) are. we have taught Olive how to answer the question “what sound does a motorcycle make?” and taught them countless other tricks just because they’re that smart. I usually post videos of them on snapchat so you can follow me there for daily adventure updates. (pedrozamarisa)

these posts seem so sad and depressing, but really I’m doing better, a little. Im finding joy in little things and holding on to them for dear life.


silver linings

Silver lining is defined as: “the comfort you feel when consoled in times of disappointment”  or, a sign of hope in an unfortunate or gloomy situation; a bright prospect:  

and I seem to keep finding them in the midst of all this. there is always hope.

a big thank you to my sister, for helping me remember there is always hope. and being there to encourage me when I feel like I shouldn’t continue.

I was going to start today off with something that was revealed to me a few days ago. But the writing prompt seemed more appropriate. If you’ve read any of my last posts (you haven’t, believe me I know) you would know that the last 3 and a half months have been a blur.

It didn’t seem like it when it was all happening but if I look back (I try not to) it is very glazed over, foggy, and even like someone took their finger and smudged their finger print over it. I know the dates of my ER visits and other important details. But when it comes to knowing what day it was when my friends visited me, or what time it was when I woke up to nurses surrounding me, I have trouble remembering. I want to remember but I struggle to clear the visions of memories intermingled in my brain. Its even worse when there is any noise around me. I get anxious because I cannot seem to hear as well and fear I might miss something someone said. I can’t say if that has anything to do with what I’m battling internally but part of me thinks it might be. Im trying so hard every day to be positive and focus on the good things the Lord has done. But its unbelievably hard.

Some days I wake up and my mind is already foggy. I pray and pray and pray it goes away before the urge to pee gets me out of bed. Sometimes it does, but the days it doesn’t I struggle the entire day with it. Feeling defeated because I tried to sleep it off and failed.

Last week I seemed to be getting better, Monday I went back to the chiropractor for the first time since before my first hospital stay. The receptionist, Cara, expressed her concern and asked all the details, I didn’t mind because she seemed to actually care (in contrast to most people I’ve seen lately that are just asking to ask.) I then had to explain everything to the actual chiropractor. It was a tough visit. I was not as sore as I thought I would be but that is probably due to the fact that I had a relaxing massage after being adjusted. But when I was at the counter paying my co-pay, the doctor told me “I want to see you in two days.” Ugh. I knew I was bad but I really didn’t think about how bad it was. (my thoughts never went past, ‘this is going to be bad’) I went back on a liquid diet Tuesday (i should have never gone off of it) and managed to be on it for a whopping 48 hours. It made a world of difference, my pain was at its lowest. (as I type this my pain is back up to what it was the last time I was in the hospital, but at this point there is nothing I can do, nor can anyone do for me.)

Wednesday morning I tried to exercise, that was a mistake. I thought whats the worst that could happen, I would be exhausted the rest of the day. no big deal right. I lasted ten minutes of yoga. YOGA. relaxing, stretching yoga. my heart almost stopped. thats the worst that could happen. my heart could stop. (I joked to myself, good thing I know CPR) I sat myself down when my vision started to fade. these white lights kept flashing and furthermore luring my already foggy vision. my heart was quite literally beating out of my chest. close to 200bpm. and my blood pressure had dropped significantly. I let my body fall completely to the ground catching my head on the yoga mat and just lied there facing the ceiling. trying my hardest to see the eyeball lamp shade that hangs in the center. My heart was beating the fastest I had ever felt, I felt it in my abdomen, in my throat, and of course the most in my left chest. I was scared that I might actually lose consciousness,  If it hadn’t been for the sharp pain I felt while standing I probably would have. It took about 20 minutes to come back down and my vision came back. I got up drank some water and went down stairs to check my blood pressure and heart rate. (it was 90/65. and 102 not too bad.) I was supposed to take my mother to the church but that was out of the question because of my inability to walk a straight line. Her husband ended up taking her and I said I would pick her up. I was getting my clothes together when she called me and requested that I bring her Cricut machine for a project a few of my friends were doing. I showered and was on my way. It was Wednesday which meant my second chiropractor appointment and I was excited that I was feeling better (beside the fact of my little activity in the morning.) The adjustment went well, it was like a routine checkup. Finally some good news. The doctor again said two days. ugh. fine. I’ll see you Friday. That night was Young Adults, it would end up to be the first time I made it through worship without crying. A few people even made note that I was looking better. (the power of makeup, a liquid diet, and chiropractic adjustments) I made a quick getaway when it was over because my oldest sister was home from visiting my other sister and I was the chosen one (by default) to pick her up from the airport.

Thursday was my followup at Ceder-Sinai for the capsule endoscopy. But before that I had to go to my place of employment. (on Tuesday one of my co-workers texted me sending well wishes and wednesday night another emailed me sending prayers) I had to pick up my W-2 and some other paperwork. I was thrilled to be there and even more emotional when I was welcomed with open arms by my fellow employees. (think heart eyed emoji times ten) I saw Katelyn first. She was in yard 1 with the little guys, holding a tiny pup that I recognized but couldn’t remember the name. She came up to the fence and said hi we chatted for a second before I asked the name of the dog. “Reinhart” she explained, “he’s afraid of everything, he’s so little he just hides.”

“did you say Reinhart?”

“yeah, you remember Lupo? the greyhound? its his little brother.”


“yes. why? ”

“hmm, ok, Reinhart..Ive got a story about that name..”

“I’ll see you inside!”

I walked in the front doors and thank God there was no one in the lobby, I walked straight for Lydia that was behind the counter.

“Hiiiiiiiiiiii!” we both screamed.

I hugged her and then Hale came out of the managers office

“HALE!!” I hugged him, and walked behind him into the office “is there anyone else hiding in here? Where’s Krystle?”

“she’s in the office over there, or not the office but the room” He explained.

I walked as fast as I could through the recently delivered maze of boxes to the second overnight room and swung open the door “Krystle!!!!” we hugged and exchanged pleasantries before catching up on how I was and my possible return to work date. Katelyn came bursting through the door and bombarded me with a hug before i knew who it was.  I got my paperwork, said hi to Cheyenne and Max, and a quick hug to Alex as she came into the lobby for an eval. I said my  “I’ll see you laters” and was on my way to Beverly Hills. Surprisingly my mom wanted to drive, she was feeling better too. We got to the office about an hour early and went to find coffee and food before heading in to wait in the room so appropriately named “waiting room.” When we were walked back to the room, the nurse that helped me the week before caught my attention and said hi. that was nice, I thought to myself. We waited only a few minutes before seeing the doctor. “you’re smiling!” he explained as he walked in. “you look better, how are you feeling?” “Im doing alright, I guess.” He went on to say there was no real findings in my capsule study. surprise, surprise. He said the doctor who read it said there was evidence of lymphocytic enteritis. which made sense, it was found in my colon and my stomach. But he still isn’t convinced that is the cause of my pain. So I have yet another test on Tuesday morning at 8am. This one is to test for bacterial overgrowth in my gut. it takes an hour and a half. and if that is negative then I will have another endoscopy the following Tuesday. On the way home from the appointment I wondered what I was going to do that night to stay awake. I vocalized it to my mom and she suggested we go to bible study and Kathy and Joe’s. As we were getting on the freeway there was a pickup truck in front of us that had a bumper sticker on it that read ‘real men love jesus.’ i read it out loud and my mom said ‘Amen!’ we went on talking and I noticed the license plate ‘ephs 416’ and I said it out loud “Ephesians 4:16” We looked at each other puzzled wondering what verse it was. so I looked it up, “From him the whole body, joined and held together by every supporting ligament, grows and builds itself up in love, as each part does its work.” We really didn’t think much of it and we didn’t say any more than a “hmm.” But once we got to bible study a few hours later  we were reading Ephesians 4:17-24, and of course my mom and I thought how strange that we had just seen that license plate. We talked about it with the group after Joe read it out loud and no one else seemed to have any connection to it. I kept going back to it, like the Lord was trying to tell me something. and then it hit me. it was for me. duh. I waited it out while we studied and when it was over I blurted out “wait, I have something to share” and I explained how the Lord revealed to me that my body is trying to heal and how I had never seen all my symptoms in one place until the chiropractor handed me this sheet about the spine and how all the nerves connect to different organs and places on the body. I was blown away. with each adjustment my body was coming back into place and each nerve, and joint and muscle is connected and if its not your body doesn’t work right. it simply can’t.

Friday was my last chiropractor appointment of the week at 10:30am and I had a massage scheduled after. It was pouring all morning and thinking of my mom being in a car accident two weeks before I had a little anxiety about driving in the rain. Of course I was fine, but the roads were flooded in pretty much all of Port Hueneme. I spent the rest of the day i the kitchen cooking and baking with my mom. Until Matt said he got a notification that the creek a few miles away was over flowing and there was a flash flood warning. The three of us jumped in the truck and went hunting for flooded streets. we didn’t find any. but we found the creek flooded and pouring into the agriculture fields on each sides. We made it back home and finished baking cookies, making butternut squash soup, and lentil soup.

I got incredibly sick that night from the soup. I guess it wasn’t liquid enough. I brought Whiskey (the cat) inside because it was nonstop raining and I felt bad making her sleep outside. She woke me up a few times throughout the night crying and wanting to go outside. I let her out and she ended up making a quick u-turn and sat right back at the door waiting for me to let her back in. I was up for most of the night in pain anyway so it really wasn’t bothersome to have to keep getting up to play with the cat. Although, when it was 3:38am and I was sitting on the floor of my room entertaining my cat with a furry black ball attached to a string I questioned what I was doing with my life. Saturday I was in quite a bit of pain and really didn’t want to do anything. So I did the minimum and went back to sleep. When I woke up again I really didn’t feel any better, I was back in the blur. I managed to get half way out of the funk and clean up the piles of clothes I am donating,  not without help of course, thank you mom for recognizing that I was emotionally wasted and had minimal energy to do it alone.

today wasn’t terrible but I’m dealing with the after affects of the soup and just about everything I eat or drink irritates the pain just that much more.

bonne nuit amigos



via Daily Prompt: Blur

still looking for the light

You know when you’re driving on a rainy day and you can see ahead of you where the storm clouds end?

I went through that yesterday. I drove down Balcolm Canyon with clear skies and a small road block where the trailer of a truck had fallen over into the mountain side. I got to South Mountain Road and a few cars coming the opposite direction had their windshield wipers on and I thought to myself ‘but its not raining..’ Sure enough around the corner by Jimenez Farms it started sprinkling. I looked ahead and saw grey clouds but it just looked cloudy. As I drove into the dark cover it began to rain harder. and harder. and eventually was pouring so hard I slowed down to a crawl because I couldn’t see the road. There were cars coming the other direction also driving slow and I started to think to myself again ‘how is this happening..there were no clouds coming down the mountain.’ It rained and hailed and poured and sprinkled throughout my drive on highway 126. off and on and in no particular order. it had no rhyme or reason.

I feel like thats how life can be when we are going through a metaphorical storm. You know there will be and end, you can see it sometimes, but you don’t know how much more you have to go through.

When I was driving on the 126 I could see ahead of me way in the distance where the dark grey clouds ended and where the white clouds and blue sky began but what wasn’t clear was how much further it was.

And this is just the perfect picture of what has been going on. Obviously I’m going through a storm and last week seemed to be the eye of it. (i hope) Ive gone through the down pour parts a few times now and I’ve had good days and bad days where I can see the sun shining and i know it will end, but the next day comes and its raining again, everything seems dark, the pain is worse, i can’t breathe. darkness surrounds me and its hailing.

but just at the right time I hear that voice that says, keeping going, it will pass, you’ll come out stronger than you ever thought you would be. Thank you Jesus for these times. I do know it will pass but Lord how much longer? How many more symptoms? How many more dark days?

Not too many more. You’ve got this. Keep your focus on the here and now. Take it one day at a time. Do not let emotions take advantage of you. keep fighting.

Last week I was a huge mess. I sobbed through all of worship and had more pain that seemed to be getting worse by the minute and yet I still continued to pretend I was fine. By the time I got home I was terrified to find Whiskey dead. She wasn’t. The next morning the veterinarian called to see how she was, I told her about the miracle that God had done. She wasn’t convinced  and still wanted to do blood work. thats fine. Tuesday morning she called with the results, “I don’t know how..but your cat is fine, all her organs are working fine, I dont get it I was sure should would have passed Saturday night” yeah me too. But look at this! Whiskey is fine. she’s alive and eating again. acting like her normal grumpy self. I couldn’t believe it. neither could the British vet tech. when my sister and I took Whiskey to the vet on tuesday for her shot, he came out and said “her blood work shocked us all, we couldn’t believe it” THANK YOU JESUS!!

Tuesday was also the day I had to start my clear liquid diet. It was staring to rain again. I felt so sick and it hadn’t even been an hour yet. I still had 24 more to go.  I honestly don’t remember all the details of that day until about 8pm. Thats when I went to bed. Because I had to start the second step of prep for my small bowel capsule endoscopy at 5am and I wanted to sleep. I had no energy and I felt awful. I was rude to my sister and mom and I felt like I had no control over my feelings. I just needed to rest. I fell asleep in pain and woke up at 4:58am in pain. I gathered my stuff and went downstairs to start drinking a ridiculous amount of miralax. Its just a powder that dissolves in water. how hard could it be to drink water? ugh. I don’t ever want to drink water again. I started getting ready at about 6:30 and I was starting my second cup of miralax. I was so incredibly nauseated I was sure I was about to hurl. I burped and there it came. good thing I was in the bathroom and I have great aim when it comes to puking. I threw up the first half of the miralax. and all these thoughts went running through my head, are they going to be able to do the procedure? why am i throwing up water? is this seriously happening right now?

I composed myself and continued to get ready. It starting raining harder. My dad and his girlfriend were supposed to pick me up at 7am. my appointment was at 9am. My dad texted me about 6:50 that he was running a few minutes late. ok thats fine. it’ll give me time to poop and throw up some more water. i was ready and sitting at the bottom of the stairs with my purse. 7am. they weren’t here. 7:05. they weren’t here. 7:10. not here. I was already frustrated that I couldn’t eat anything, and that I felt so sick. I just wanted that day to be over before it really even started. I snapped and said to my mom, should i just drive myself?! she was surprised he was that late. he texted me at 7:28 “around the corner” I told my mom to sit back down and he was there about a minute later. great now I’m going to be late for my appointment.

There was nothing I could do. “Marisa just calm down” I told myself over and over trying not to be rude when my dad asked for the address of my doctor. “9033 wilshire boulevard” I was silent the entire 2 hour drive there. i just read my book and tried not to freak out. we got there at 9:17. I was pissed but I tried not to show it. I got hooked up to all the wires and had the monitor hanging on my left hip. I felt like I had a bomb strapped to me. it seemed like a simple enough task. wear a monitor and swallow a pill camera. I was so wrong. so so wrong. I had zero energy from not eating the day before and was tired and mad and everything else. It was pouring. this was the down pour of the week. I wasn’t allowed to eat anything until after 5:30 that night and was only allowed clear liquids 4 hours after I swallowed the pill. 1:30 couldn’t come fast enough. we ended up at the grove and farmers market so they could eat lunch. it was hard for me to watch people eat and not be able to even have one fry. It was 1:40 when I finally realized I could have the iced tea my dad bought and snuck into the movie theater. I took a sip and immediately felt sick. I wanted to puke.  I waited another ten minutes before trying to have more. and it just made me feel worse. so I didn’t have anything. for the rest of the day. the movie ended about 3:30 and I still had 2 hours to go. we went into a store and left. we got to the office about 30 minutes early and just sat in the empty waiting room. I started reading and before I knew it, it was 5:27. the nurse came out and motioned to follow her “you ready?” she inquired. “its time! yes I’m ready!” we took off all the leads and wires and the monitor. had a short conversation about how tired I was and how I was afraid to eat for a multitude of reasons. and I was out of there. the sun was starting to be visible. I told my dad I didn’t care how much it was going to hurt, I wanted a chicken run ranch sandwich from Native Foods. Its an amazing vegan cafe that is in limited locations and Westwood is one of them. I ordered a small order of the native wings and the chicken run ranch sandwich. when it came to the table I was in way over my head. lets just say that I only ate half of the sandwich and was done. I took the rest home and slept a few hours before getting up to be sick one last time.  the rain was slowing down.

I don’t remember much of Thursday. which is strange. but I remember waking up at 4am Friday morning and thinking “I might as well get up now.” I was taking my sister to the airport and we were leaving at 5. the drive was fun. just me and my mom and sister. we had a few good laughs that were slightly  sad because my mom can’t laugh without being in pain. When we got home we both went back to sleep. I don’t know what time my mom woke up but I woke up when she called me telling me to get dressed because we had to go see my grandma. it was 1:21pm…..  I quickly got dressed, but didn’t bother doing my hair or really bother to care what I looked like. when we got to her complex it was raining and cold. she was fine. just in pain from the accident. we made her walk up and down the hallways so she would get some deep breathing in. we talked for awhile and then left.

Saturday morning I had a class for CPR. I was nervous at first but once it started I was more relaxed and excited to learn. I felt like I was back in school. there were bagels that I was also nervous about eating, but my most common thought lately is something like “I’ve been in constant pain for a month whats a few more hours” its kinda sad now that I see it in writing. but its the truth. I ate about 3/4ths of a bagel and was in immediate pain and wanted to puke. I ran out of the room, down the hall to the restroom. I was able to keep it down but the thought of sitting through a two hour class was almost unbearable. but thank God it passed and I was able to finish the class. I even felt good enough to drive to Bakersfield for the night just to see the condors play and drive home at 6am for church this morning.

it stopped raining and the clouds began to clear.

today has been tough but the Son definitely made his presence known.




“hows it going?”

The last 48 or so hours have been actual hell on earth.

I’ve been emotionally overwhelmed by everything I’ve been through and yet the Lord is not done.

Late Thursday night I went down to Bakersfield with my sister to visit my dad. I was in quite a bit of pain but I handled it. Friday morning I was feeling ehh so I stayed in bed until the urge to pee made me get up. I don’t know what time it was but I’m guessing somewhere around 11. I went to the kitchen to eat some pan dulce. I eventually made my way to the game room where Lindy and my sister were cleaning. My dad had just gotten home from work for lunch and to meet this bar tender that would be working Super Bowl Sunday. I was feeling extra lazy but knew I needed to read this book to catch up for this class I’m taking at church. So I was about to start reading when my sister asked me with a concerned voice “you didn’t read that text?” to which I replied “no I didn’t hear my phone” as I got up to grab it she says, no ill just read it.

“this is one of those txt msgs.

Your mom and grandma were in an accident on the way back to hospital. Your grandma banged her knee pretty good. The other car hit right behind her. Both are going in ambulance NOT LIFE THREATENING. Just really banged up. Still at accident scene. Temple & vista by our house.”

a text from my stepdad.

I froze.

my sister started quietly crying.

Lindy and my dad were sitting at the bar and my dad looks over and says


my sister briefly explained.

I was still frozen. thinking what the hell is going on, why won’t this nightmare end.

i didn’t know what to do. cry? scream? i had no idea how to feel.

my dad went over and hugged my sister who was sitting on the floor a few feet away from me. then he came over to me and hugged me asking if i was ok

i shook my head no. and a tear rolled down my cheek.

he walked away and went back to eating lunch.

I was unfreezing and still trying to figure out what to do.

get angry? be scared? be sad? be confused? I was all of them.

I slowly stood to my feet from the couch, grabbed my phone, grabbed my book and walked around the pool table into the long dark hallway and starting crying. i kept walking until i got to the end and opened the door to my room, i walked in, shut the door behind me and fell to my knees sobbing.

“Lord what did we do to deserve such pain and suffering? Lord why is this happening? Lord I don’t get it! Lord help me, I am calling out to you for help and where are you? LORD I NEED YOU HERE NOW! HELP ME! I CANT DO THIS ANYMORE!” I cried and cried and cried until I couldn’t breathe.

I texted a couple friends from church, I didn’t know who else to text.

You guys I can’t do this anymore.

I called Margaret. sobbing. I tried to talk but I couldn’t. between my short breaths I told her I was falling apart and I didn’t know what to do. I told her the only thing I knew to do was pray and I can’t even do that. I didn’t know what to pray for or how to pray. She started praying over me, for me, with me. I got some clarity to speak and pray with her. when we finished praying she said she would go see my mom. I started crying again. thank you so much Margaret. I couldn’t ask for a better friend.

I calmed down after surrendering everything to the Lord. take it, i don’t want it anymore. i can’t handle it anymore. just take it. and He did.

I had peace. if only for a few hours. a few days. thats all i needed.

there was more stress when it was game time but thats not part of my story. I made it to the game with my dad. we talked bout Jesus and my dad for the first time ever told me he was proud of  my strength in the Lord. it was amazing but I give all the glory to God. I couldn’t have done it with out Him. I will continue to lean on Him for everything.

the Divas won a great game that night.

my sister had to work at 8am saturday morning so we left at 5am. when we got home we went right up stairs to see my mom. (both her and my grandma have broken sternums from the accident and my mom has two broken ribs from a previous bike accident back in november.) she was awake and feeling pretty good. she’s ok. but wow that was stressful. my sister quickly reminded me (unintentionally) about one more thing.

“i have to go see whiskey before i leave”

her cat that lives with us. she’s 12 and an outdoor cat. my mom told us about an hour before her accident that whiskey hadn’t eaten in three days.


I gave her as many tips as I could to get Noodle to eat. (whiskey has more pet names than any other pet I’ve ever had…except maybe Q) She still wouldn’t eat and saturday was day 4. she was surly dying but i didn’t know how close she was until I went to see her about 30 minutes after my sister left for work.

I found Whiskey laying in the dirt in the orchard. she didn’t respond to me calling her at all. but she was laying with her head picked up so I knew she was still alive. I walked over to her and picked her up.

“whats wrong kitten? you don’t feel good?”

I was becoming one of those “whats going on” people.

Whiskey didn’t seem to mind. she just cried a couple times. a very sad cry. a painful cry. I brought her inside and set up a small crate for her to relax in. I called a few vets and eventually made an appointment with the vet where I used to work. I seemed ok. I had to be strong enough for this. but I couldn’t go alone, so I texted my friend Matty. she came to the vet with me and was sitting next to me when the veterinarian said “if it wasn’t a Saturday I would be hospitalizing your cat. This is an emergency, she is very ill.”

I froze again.

you can’t be serious. my sisters cat was about to die right in front of me.

the vet gave me some options and I called my mom crying. “Mom she’s really sick. like she’s not going to make it. Jenny (the vet) wants to do blood work and give her fluids.”

my mom and I have been through way too much in the past 3 months. and I haven’t been working so I have no income. but i have hospital bills. Lots of them. and now so does my mom.

she called my sister and my sister called me. we decided to just buy Whiskey some time so she could die peacefully at home with me and my sister. but Jenny wasn’t happy with it.

“you’re basically telling me to put a bandaid on a dying cat”

I burst into tears. I know Jenny, I know.

“you don’t understand that my family has been going through hell the last two days I can’t call my sister and tell her I had to put her cat to sleep. i just can’t.”

I had to sign an AMA. something I never thought I would do.

they gave Whiskey some fluids and we went home. I walked in the door and my mom was on the phone. she asked what they did and I explained that happened. “she’s not going to make it” I cried. Whiskey cried. I put whiskey outside where she wanted to be for a little bit. I gathered my stuff and went upstairs. I buried my face in my blankets and pillows and cried myself to sleep.

I woke up to my sister touching my leg asking what to do. We brought Whiskey inside and up to my room. We watched her rest on the dog bed for a few hours. We observed her acting very strange and it broke our hearts.

do we just take her now? the ER vet is still open.

we just sat there on the floor staring at our dying cat.

she cried off and on. we ate some cheese puffs. and took Whiskeys paw prints.

My sister needed to go home to shower and get to bed because she worked the next morning. I was strong for her. but as soon as she left I fell apart. Its easy to be strong for other people but once they leave and you don’t have to be strong anymore all bets are off.

I was terrified I would wake up to a dead cat Sunday morning.

I set her up in this cloth crate I got from work, said goodnight and turned off the lights.

My sister called me, I had to compose myself enough so she wouldn’t know I was crying.

she has been having a hard time with her living situation and last night when she got home she was told the gas was turned off. just one more thing. let it be the last of the bad news. everything was still falling apart.

I calmed her down and the conversation ended.

I slept like a baby.

which if you’re smart you know means I woke up every two hours crying wanting to be held.

I am normally a very heavy sleeper but the last few months have been quite the opposite. last night I woke up every time Whiskey moved and I heard her bell.

“ok she’s still alive” I thought to myself every time I heard the jingle.

When it was finally time to get up I said out loud “Lord help me” as I kneeled down to see if she was alive.

She picked up her head and I sighed “Oh thank God”

I put on some clean clothes and put the cat in the crate and went down stairs.

Left for church thinking how in the world am I going to get through this.

I walked in the church on the verge of tears. I purposely avoided eye contact with everyone. but once I got in the sanctuary my bottom lip started quivering, I was about to lose it. I found a seat in the third row between two families with an empty seat or two on either side of me. I set my stuff down and crossed my arms and started swaying to the song. I started crying. I didn’t even last 20 seconds. I sat on the edge of my seat with my face in my hands weeping. I couldn’t stop. I cried through 30 minutes of worship. when it was ending I knew I needed to get myself together or get out. I tried getting up but I felt this weight holding me down as if the Lord was saying “don’t leave, you can get through this, you can do this.” So I did. I sat through service and took notes. and then the service ended and I was shaking with anxiety that someone I knew would see my red puffy eyes and face and ask the dreaded question.

most people knew about my moms accident but no one knew about my dying cat.

I walked in to the nursery and waited for the rest of my team. When Morgan came in she said to me “your face is red like you’ve been crying..” she came up to me and hugged me. i tried to hold myself together but as soon as she let go I saw Margaret on the other side of the counter with Tony. I just shook my head. Thats all it took. she came over to me and I wept again, into her shoulder this time. I don’t know how long but, it seemed like forever. I just can’t do this anymore. she said “you’ll get through this, you’ll be ok”

I was asked by several people if I wanted to go home, I said no. I didn’t want to go home and watch my dying cat. I stayed to serve in the nursery for second and third service.and after it was over  I went to my stepdads parents house for free food. as if I could eat anything. I was in so much pain all over again. In the nursery every time I held a baby on my right hip I would get that debilitating pain throughout my abdomen.

I stayed until my mom and stepdad left because frankly I didn’t want to come home and find a dead cat.

But get this.

I got home right after them and walked inside to see Whiskey walking to the back door. Oh thank God she’s still alive. Not only was she alive, but she seemed better. she was more alert but still walking kind of wobbly. I let her go outside and she drank some water. I thought what the heck. So I went inside to grab her bowl of kibble from this morning. I added some hot water to make it soft and put it in front of her. SHE STARTED EATING. I just about lost it.

I opened the sliding glass door and told my mom. she was baffled. I starting thinking to myself, those fluids must have been from God. She didn’t eat all of the food but it was a start in the right direction.

a few hours ago she was actually hiding under my bed and came running when I called her. she then proceeded to blow my mind with how alive she was. I pulled out the cat toys and she started playing. Chasing them and trying to kill this little ball of black fuzz. Whiskey what the heck! This is all the Lord, I’m telling you there is nothing else! nothing short of a miracle. she is currently sleeping next to me curled up in a kitten ball of fur. purring.

Jesus is real. He is alive. And He is still doing miracles every day. I am in awe of His power. and I’m starting to see the  light at the end of this long dark tunnel.

bonne nuit.


if you’re going through hell…pt. 2

So I’ll start where I left off, in the days after surgery.

I was so sick of laying in bed, I think it had been about 10 days, I was ready to get out and do something exciting. which meant being in a little bit of pain. I was ok with that.

some people from my church host a live nativity every year. its on the front lawn of someones house on the “candy cane lane” of oxnard. I had my mother drive me since I was still on “the good stuff” aka norco. we borrowed a wheelchair so I didn’t have to walk too far. considering standing was difficult I wasn’t about walk through four blocks of crowded sidewalks. we met up with my good friend Margaret and rolled down the street to the nativity. it was freezing. and shivering was causing my gut to jiggle and I was not happy. except that I was cracking up when Margaret and I went for a stroll and she went full speed across the crosswalk to make it up the ramp and we crashed. I just about fell out of the wheelchair and everyone around us came running to help and we just couldn’t stop laughing.

the next morning was brutal, I was very sore from all the laughing from the previous days of adventure. but it was worth it.

I don’t remember much else until the week after when I woke up Thursday morning with two little red spots on my left hand. I figured it was a bug bite. thought nothing else about it. I washed all my blankets and sheets and pillow cases thinking maybe the bug would die. but that wasn’t even close to solving the problem. by the evening I had little red spots on the top of my left knee and on the tops of both my feet.

My first day back to work was Friday December 23rd and I was a few hours away from being around all my co workers again and feeding about 100 dogs. I was excited. that was until I woke up at 4am with my feet covered in hives and both my knees blotchy red. the itchiness was nothing compared to what I was about to endure. but I’m serious when I say it was miserable.

I ended up back in the ER on Christmas eve morning because my lips were swollen the hives were spreading so fast you could see it and I was starting to have trouble breathing. the ER doctor seemed like he just wanted to get rid of me, but they were mildly concerned about my swollen lips. he gave me something for my nausea and a strong dose of Benadryl and they sent me home. the rest of the day was a blur, but I do remember getting dressed up for Christmas Eve service and making it through service without scratching myself too much. I got home and knocked out on my bed upstairs while my entire family filtered into the house below me. I would wake up every couple of minutes to someone asking my mom “where is marisa?” I would just close my eyes and try to go back to sleep. When my sister got there she came up to see how I was, she tried to convince me to go downstairs but I felt awful. She left me and came back about a half hour later she came back with a plate of deviled eggs, that was probably the highlight of my night. but at that point I had a migraine from not eating anything earlier in the day and I just really wanted the night to end. It didn’t end until I made it downstairs to do my rounds saying high to everyone and sitting at the bottom of the stairs trying not to cry. I was so itchy. miserably itchy. I couldn’t believe it. I was super weak from malnourishment so I couldn’t even walk to the table to make myself a plate of rice and beans. I called my sister over to walk me over there and she helped me, thank God.

I remember having anxiety about eating because I had been vomiting. but I think i was too focused on trying not to scratch myself. I ate a small portion and gave up. every time I used my hands for anything the blood would start rushing to my fingers and they would start itching. So I ended up opening some presents and then crying because I couldn’t handle the itching. my sister brought me some ice packs for my hands and let me cry into her.

I had her help me upstairs and changed into shorts and a t shirt (thinking anything else would be too warm and make my itching worse). I climbed into bed and tried sleeping. I really don’t know how to explain how terribly itchy I was.

It went on for days. and then a week. and then two weeks. I tried sleeping but every time I would fall asleep I would wake myself up by scratching so violently. I woke up about every 20 minutes throughout each night. and about every two hours the itching would become so unbearable I would have to get in the bath tub with freezing cold water to calm the blood flow. I think one of the  worst parts (there were many)  was when I ran out of the oatmeal bath I had been using. It was like the world was ending and I would die  by scratching myself to death.

after the first week of steroids I was a ticking time bomb. I also had a cold, or aspirate pneumonia (or both) it was hard to tell the difference ( I was told by my GI that every time I vomit, because of my hiatal hernia, a little bit would end up in my right lung causing the aspirate pneumonia). I had a bad cough and a runny nose and was covered in hives. At this point I was ready to give up, in fact if you ask my mom she might say that I did give up. If you’ve ever been on steroids you know what I’m talking about. I was a mental mess. And all I wanted was a hug. but being my generous self, I gave my mom the cold I had. you’re welcome mom. So she was in no shape to comfort me, needing some comfort herself. I felt so alone. I knew I had God to lean on, but I needed a psychical hug. I was at the breaking point. On the edge. and then I fell.

I broke down in tears, sobbing into my pillow, screaming so hard a was gagging. I just needed someone to grab me and tell me everything was going to be ok. but quite the opposite happened. And I don’t blame her. My mom came in my room and asked why are you crying. I know my mom doesn’t understand depression or anxiety so I really can’t be mad at her for not understanding. so I’ll blame the steroids for making me shaky and volatile. We argued for a few minutes before coming to an understanding that neither of us understood how the other was feeling. And did what we only know to do at a time like that. We prayed.

a few days later was January first, the pajama party for children ministry at church and we (the ride or die crew) bought matching leopard onesies to wear.

I was still a mess, having thrown up the night before and screaming my head off again. I was back in the ER for new years eve. sitting in the waiting room watching the ball drop. they called my name and I never realized how much I hated the question “whats going on” until that night. I was so pissed. and I was rude to the doctor. “WHATS GOING ON?! WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK IS GOING ON I’VE BEEN FREAKING COVERED IN HIVES FOR TWO WEEKS AND YOU DONT HAVE ANY ANSWERS FOR ME THATS ‘WHATS GOING ON'”  I screamed at him in my head. but on the outside I was frozen. glaring at him with these eyes that yelled “help me.” He had no empathy. I did actually throw my blood pressure cuff at the wall and cussed him out when he said “why are you looking at me like that?’ I admit that was not a very christian thing for me to do but maybe that gives you an idea of how frustrating it was not having answers. He then started showing some compassion towards me and my mom. I went into a room and they continued giving me fluids and started me on a stronger dose of steroids along with Benadryl and Pepcid. I would be there for a couple hours for the bag of fluids get in me, and as soon as it was done I was ready to bolt out of there. I hate hospitals. and ERs. at least when I’m the patient. but thats a whole different story. We got out of there around 3am I think. and I was able to sleep for about an hour before waking up to take yet another cold bath.

That morning was Sunday January first, I put on my leopard pajamas and went to church with my mom. We met up with the rest of our team in the nursery where we serve with the infants-two year olds. It was pretty uneventful as I remember. And I felt awful. I probably should have stayed home. but I couldn’t get prayer at home and I knew church is where I needed to be, surrounded by people that cared for me, and more importantly the Lord. I was in no shape to pray for myself but I desperately needed prayer. after we served with the babies, we went to service and I broke down in tears yet again. I vaguely remember what was taught that day because I was trying my best not to vomit all over the first row in front of me.

When service ended I was crying and feeling worse than the night before. I think I had gone a full two weeks without good sleep. I just needed rest. I was crying so hard I caused a scene and my mother pulled this wonderful couple over to pray for me. I can’t thank them enough for starting what was one of the most powerful prayers I have ever experienced, I was literally surrounded on all sides by people that love me and wanted to pray for me. with their hands stretched over me, I actually didn’t feel alone in this battle at that moment.

I made it to the car and eventually home just in time to throw up in the drive way. It seemed to never end. (it still hasn’t ended)  I made it upstairs to rest, I ‘slept’ for a few hours and woke up to my sister asking me how I felt. I don’t remember anything after that.

that Thursday was my first appointment with the GI since being released from the hospital on the 15th of December. I was still like a zombie because of the steroids. I hated everything. I didn’t want to eat. and my blood pressure was so low I couldn’t stand by myself. when the doctor saw me he seemed worried that I  wasn’t any better and had actually gotten worse. so he ordered more blood tests and and mri of my abdomen because I was having pain again. along with all the other symptoms.

I went to my dads that weekend for the condors outdoor classic. I was so sick. I should have stayed home. but I had already missed so many hockey games and I wasn’t about to let nausea and hives stand in my way.  Friday was the alumni/celebrity game and I wasn’t that excited, until we got there. When we parked I saw this nice jeep park in the row across from us and pointed out the license plate to my sister (its a thing we do if we see one thats not California) it was Michigan if I remember correctly. I was talking to my sister about another out of state plate I saw the day before as we were walking past the jeep when something caught my eye. It was Taylor Beck. I did a double take just to make sure my eyes weren’t deceiving me, and as I looked back Michael Latta got out of the back seat. Im not gonna lie, I lost it. I flipped around so fast to tell my sister and I blurted out “oh my God, thats Michael Latta” if you can imagine all those words slurred into one. I freaking love this guy, as a player of course. when he played with the Capitals with Tom Wilson, that was magic. They were the best together. I was so giddy. haha. I turned back around to see if they were close or if I was in the clear to express my excitement to my sister without sounding like an idiot in front of one of my favorite hockey players. nope. not clear. abort mission. red alert. they were right behind us. so I made a fool  of myself

“Hey guys”

I turned and walked away.

oh my gosh. what the hell did I just do. probably missed my one and only chance to meet Latta and I blew it. NOOOOOOOOO thinking ill never see him again in my life. oh well. on to the game. then the next day came around and we waited around the house playing with the dogs. game time. we left the house bundled up ready to sit through the rain and watch some outdoor hockey. as we walked up toward the stairs we passed the Reign locker room and I glanced in, there was Latta, so of course I did what I do best and made a fool of myself once more. “LATTA” I screamed and kept walking. my sister couldn’t believe I did that, and yet I in fact had just done that. We enjoyed the game, watching the Bakersfield Divas complete the comeback in OT, thank you Griffin Reinhart.

After the game I joked and asked my sister to wait with me outside the Reign locker room in hopes of seeing Latta again and actually being a regular fan and asking for a photo. she obliged. wasn’t happy to wait in the cold but she did, thanks sis. I was looking down at my phone to check the time, I told her earlier that we would only wait ten minutes and if he didn’t come out we would leave, I had 2 minutes before we would be leaving and I looked up.

“Latta! can I get a photo!?”

He was right there and said yeah just a minute ill be right back.

I didn’t think anything of it, but my sisters friend made a comment about him not coming back and being a jerk. I guess thats a possibility. no. no way he’s not rude.

He did come back. I got to meet him and ask him how much he missed Tom. and I got my photo. THANK YOU JESUS

We came home that night (i mean the two hour drive home) I slept a few hours before waking up to hives again. but thank God that was the last night I would wake up because of itching. I was moderately healthy for a few weeks, going to work here and there a few short shifts and a few long ones. and I seemed to be on the road to recovery.

That was until I tried to eat solid food for all three meals everyday. That was probably a bad idea. But I did it and I didn’t get sick. so I thought I was fine. It hurt every time I ate. like a burning sensation directly beneath my sternum. I just though it was heart burn or something like that. but when the pain started to spread down each side under my ribcage I got worried. I went two weeks and two days without an ER visit. But Tuesday January 17th I was at work and the pain stopped my dead in my tracks. I couldn’t  breathe all of a sudden there was stabbing searing pain throughout my abdomen. I was the supervisor though and I couldn’t leave my team. I would be fine. Nope. there it was again. Couldn’t move. It hurt to breathe. I got out of what I was doing to go find the GM and tell her I needed to leave. She figured it out (thank you Alex) and I was able to leave a few hours early. I drove myself home, how? i don’t really know, probably by the grace of God. I called my mother and she was on her way to pick me up and take me back to the ER. it was the busiest I have seen in my few trips. I waited in the lobby for probably 45 minutes before getting brought back to a bed in the hallway. The ER doctor was the same one I saw when I was having the gallbladder pain so she called my GI and told him I was there. They didn’t give me anything for pain because I told them it was coming and going. and there was no way to tell what it was coming from. the only test they did that night was another hida scan to make sure there was no leak from surgery. When the GI got there he told me the blood test I had done a few weeks before came back positive for Crohn’s disease and that could be the cause of the pain. there wasn’t a leak and I was sent home.

I went to work on Wednesday for a meeting and told the managers what happened in the ER. sat through the meeting and went back home to rest. I think I worked Thursday it was only a 4 hour shift. I spent the rest of the day running to the bathroom every ten minutes because my bowels were freaking out over who knows what. Friday I was off from work and I spent the day trying to figure out what to eat that wouldn’t make me sick. I did laundry too and fell sleep on my bed for a ‘nap’ only to wake up five hours later to my sister talking  to my mom about what I had been going through the last two days. My mom was worried about the diarrhea so she called my GI and he ordered a test that she had to go pick up and told her to put me on a BRAT diet. and I was supposed to poop in this thing and ew. ill spare you the details. I didn’t end up pooping again until three days later and it was not relevant anymore.

heres why:

I was scheduled to work Saturday  January 21st from 1:15 to 9:15 and I was sure I would be ok. I slept in thinking more sleep would help me be up late at work. I got up to eat breakfast and felt sick. I ate applause and started to get worse. the pain in my abdomen was getting worse in each wave. my hands were getting clammy. I was about to puke. I slowly walked up the stairs, into the bathroom and kneeled on the floor in front of the toilet and let it come out. a few minutes later, I was crying again and trying so hard to be ok, my mom came in and asked what I wanted to do. I wanted to go to work. but obviously that wasn’t happening, so I told her to call my work and tell them I wouldn’t be coming in and why. She then asked how my pain was and it was creeping up to a 10. She called my GI and he said to take me back to the ER.

here were go again. we were really at a loss at what to do. I had given up. again. I just wanted answers. I still want answers. I had never realized how many different kinds of pain existed until that day. Im sure I have experienced it all now. They got me in pretty quick and had trouble getting the iv in because my veins were so scarred from all the other times I got poked. once the nurse got the iv in she drew some blood for tests and gave me a dose of dilaudid. that had worked before for the pain from my gallbladder. this was different. I whispered through my tears to my mom “i think its making it worse”

it was. I’m going to to my best to describe the pain, searing cramping burning stinging twisting. i don’t even know what was happening. I felt like a demon was trying to come out of my abdomen. think, bella swan in twilight when she was bitten by that vampire. i was writhing in pain. my mom said “let them hear you” she knew i was holding back screaming and crying. i was just moaning and groaning in this excruciating pain. I started yelling “WHAT IS THIS” as if anyone knew what I feeling. over and over I screamed until my mom got so fed up that she walked out of the doorway and said “can we get some help in here?!” three nurses and the ER doctor came running in and tried to figure out what the hell was going on. the doctor said “lets give her some dilaudid” my mother protested “thats what made it worse!” the doctor snapped back and said “well i can leave her like this” my mom agreed to try it and with in a few seconds the pain got even worse. the nurses left and the doctor was talking to someone on the other side of the curtain in the room, she said “valium?” the doctor agreed.

when they came to give me the valium my mom asked what it was for (she’s a retired parole officer, she knew what it was for) and the nurse said, “it’ll make her go to sleep”

it didn’t. I did calm down and the pain got better but it never completely went away. they took me for a CT of my abdomen and pelvis. I couldn’t lay still enough at first and the technicians did their best to calm me down and help me breathe. they got what they needed and took me back to my ER room.

a few minutes later the doctor came back and said “we’re going to admit her for observation and pain control. Her CT came back clear except for a cyst that just ruptured on her right ovary. but her pain is too high for it to be the cause.”

wow another hospital stay. great. I was in the hospital from Saturday to Tuesday. They did an MRI on Monday and it came back clear. still no answers for the pain. I started to think it was all in my head. haha what a joke. I was on a clear liquid diet for the first two days and then was advanced to a full liquid diet. that was a mistake. eating tomato soup was so painful. but it tasted so good. they did test on Tuesday morning to see how fast or slow my stomach empties after I eat. so you guessed it, I had to eat. real food. well kinda, I had scrambled eggs (the powder kind) and a bite of an apple and some small bites of an artificially flavored blueberry muffin. the apple was the worst part. the test took an hour and a half. and came back normal. they sent me home.

but I was back the next morning at 6am for a colonoscopy. that was fun. no. there is nothing fun about that. but we got a small answer, I have a twist in my colon. that causes pain sometimes. but according to doctors, it doesn’t cause this much pain.

its been two weeks since then and I now have gone to get a second opinion at Cedar-Sinai in beverly hills. Ive seen that doctor twice. and my final test is this Wednesday. its called a small bowel capsule endoscopy and it takes 9 hours.

So far theses are the things I’ve been diagnosed with or things they have found:

biliary disease, a hiatal hernia, celiac disease, crohns disease, tortuous hepatic twist, and the latest lymphocytic gastritis which is a very rare disease that no one knows about.

in my eyes they are all wrong, and Im 99% sure I have Sphincter  of Oddi Dysfunction.

Im exhausted and I still need to write about the last 48 hours.

So if you’re going through hell, keep on going.