Sick of Being Sick

So it's no secret that I have been sick for quite some time, actually since I went to Romania and contracted what I thought was mononucleosis.

It's been over two years, and I haven't gotten better. I thought I was crazy and a hypochondriac, so I didn't let others know of my belief that it wasn't mono (well, actually before the test results came back I told my mom there was no way that it was mono). But the tests came back positive.

It wasn't until this past year, when I was living with some old besties when they started saying "I think you have some Romania virus" that I realized I wasn't alone in my disbelief.

But after another positive test for mononucleosis, a swollen liver and spleen and the forbidding of exercising that I thought I was going to get better. But I didn't.

Three weeks ago, I went to the doctor once again and told her, "I'm not getting better" and that "I am sick of being sick", when she stated "We'll test your blood again and see if you're anemic (and some other diseases and conditions that I can't remember)". Sure enough the test came back positive that I indeed am anemic. Meaning that a simple iron supplement can cure me of my fatigue, and hopefully my negative attitude and outlook on life.

This also means that for the past year or so, I could have been healthy had they merely done the right test in the first place. So, thank you Eastside Family Medicine and BYU Student Health Clinic, for running the wrong tests and prolonging my illness.

Moral of the story: If you think there is something wrong with you, there probably is, even if no one believes you. And if your besties start telling you that they think something is wrong with you, there probably is too.

She's a Passionate Woman

This post goes out to my dear friend Emily Lloyd who has a passion for faceinhole.com, which after following her lead, I have grown to love myself. This is what I have been up to the past few hours:


Create your own FACEinHOLE


Create your own FACEinHOLE


Create your own FACEinHOLE


Create your own FACEinHOLE


Create your own FACEinHOLE



Create your own FACEinHOLE


Create your own FACEinHOLE


Create your own FACEinHOLE


Create your own FACEinHOLE


Create your own FACEinHOLE


Create your own FACEinHOLE


Create your own FACEinHOLE


Create your own FACEinHOLE

Don't worry, I was laughing out loud by myself like a crazy person when I made these.

She'll Be Coming Around the Mountain When She Comes

I survived the trip and it was quite fun.



My grandpa had pneumonia and I had to take him to the doctors a couple of times, but we had fun anyways. I slept on his couch and was unaware that he doesn't sleep, but rather paces his house and swears randomly all throughout the night, which made me realize where I get some of my distinguishable qualities. I also administered his medication and gave him his insulin shots, which was awesome. He is also adorable and leaving him was one of the hardest things I had to do since leaving Romania. It was just like leaving my kids all over again, because I knew that he would be taken care of, but I no longer had control of taking care of him. Not to mention I look about 20 pounds overweight in all of my pictures (unlike Romania where I actually was 20 pounds overweight).



We also watched westerns and oldies like "Murder She Wrote" and my personal favorite "Golden Girls". I realized that my life will be one long episode of "Golden Girls" and if I had to be a character I would probably be Dorothy (you have to see the show, then you would totally understand).



Katie Cullen will be disappointed to know that I did not get to ride the horses due to the fact it was pouring down rain the entire time. The closest I got to riding a horse was driving a 1968 Mustang. Another disappointment is that I didn't get an opportunity to wear my mom's Lee jeans that I had to borrow because I left all my crappy jeans in Utah. Nor did I wear the tennis shoes that I stole from my little sister's room (that she never knew I took in the first place).

I also spent some quality time with a hobo when I was waiting for my dad to pick me up at King Street Station. He told me about his veteran status and how he has tumors from Desert Storm and how it is all Bush's fault. He talked to me for about 15 minutes straight and told me that he was supposed to be in the VA hospital in Montana but the convoy never came because of Bush. He told me that I looked like one of the nurses at the hospital and I said, "I used to work at a hospital." He asked me if I was a nurse and when I said no, he changed the subject. He then went on to tell me I was an honest person who cared, and asked if I could give him money for his fare. I told him I didn't have money to give him, but I had food. So I gave him my teddy grahams and a country time lemonade and he was off to harass other passengers. I saw his a few minutes later guzzling the teddy grahams and the lemonade was no where in sight. Little did he know that he looked, talked, and acted exactly like my old patients.

Trout Creek or Bust

So today I will be going by train to Trout Creek, Montana. That's right, by train. The last time I was on a train was in Romania, when a drunken man tried to break into my cabin. But today I will be traveling alone on the wonderful Amtrak. If you are having a bad day just picture this: Me sitting all by my lonesome on a 10 hour train ride to Montana.



I'm going to visit my grandpa you lives with my aunt and uncle, so basically I'm killing two birds with one stone. I will be getting in touch with the inner cowgirl inside of me. It is over 50 miles to the nearest stop light.

I will be there until Friday, and won't have cell phone coverage, so if you can't get a hold of me, do not panic. I will be back soon.

Cut it Out

So I've been talking about how I wanted to cut my hair like Victoria Beckham. My hair dresser thought it was a great idea, but since I can't get my hair cut every six weeks, or more that I can't trust anyone to cut my hair every six weeks, we decided to go with something more simple. Don't judge my hairdresser by what it looks like. I was tired of blow drying it today and just left it air dry. Katie Cullen and Kendyl have been harassing me for photos, so please enjoy.





The funny thing is that I cut off about 5 inches, and the only person who said anything about it was the secretary at my dentist's office who I haven't seen in about five years.

Paste Fericit

Isus Hristos a inviat. Adeverat a inviat. Yes it's true, Jesus is the reason for the season. And as I sit nearly alone in my apartment on Easter (Katie Cullen is the only one home and she is asleep), I've realized something.

I should have bought Easter candy when I was at the store this weekend. Seriously, I'm dieing.

I've also realized that I miss Romania with all my heart. I learned this when I turned the language of the blogspot to Romanian and could only understand a few words, when two years ago I understood about 90% and pretended I understood the other 10%.

I miss the egg game, and midnight mass (even though I received bad luck for a year because my candle went out early). I miss those days when there would randomly be a holiday that no one told us about, and the tramvie wouldn't be running. I miss the deaf gypsy man who begged me in sign language to take him home with me on an airplane. I miss the two person elevator that we crammed 10 people into only to have it plummet five floors and get stuck. I miss gogosi, and funetti, and natti waffles. I miss late night pillow talk and wearing the same over sized t-shirts everyday only to change into over sized scrubs and back again.

I miss sitting in sweaty hospital rooms for hours while I held babies and chatted it up. I miss the longest fall I've ever seen by Emily Lloyd. I miss scala and hala centrala. And Hungary. I miss losing myself (and my appearance) and only caring about those kids. I miss feeling how fortunate I am to have grown up the way I did despite the difficulties.

I miss my scala girls and podul peeps. I especially miss those kids.

I would give anything to let Raluca play with my hair, have Anca choke me, have Nicolina pull my hair, and dance with Adina and Maria. Spin with Valentine, chase Neggie, and whistle with Julian. I would love to hold Emanuela, help Stefan out of his wheelchair, hold Davids hand, and sing to Cristi. Cry with Marian, laugh with Alex, and run with Paula. Scoot with Denisa, squeeze Cosmina, and rock with Denis. Look at my hand with Sergiu, scream with Alina, and grin with Madalin. Modern dance with Ioane, spin threads with Simona, and have little Simona's wet diaper dampen my scrubs. Make weird noises with Matei, watch Monica sleep, discuss life with Murat, and help little Cosmina breath.

It's only a matter of time before I go back and become a gypsy.

Lei Hoh Mah

Have you ever tried to speak Cantonese? Because it is crazy and hard. Yes is "heih", and no is "m heih". Fun huh?

Anyways, let me give you an update. I had my last day at Utah State Hospital this past week. This is serious. I thought it would be fine, but now it's like a piece of me is missing. I mean, who's going to boss everyone around? I was fine with the whole idea of leaving until I had to turn my keys and badge in. Then I had to go to the unit without either and the guy in central control asked me if I was a pool tech. No, I've just been working here for about two years, no big deal.

Without work you would think that I'm less busy. You would be wrong. Now I'm going to school, finishing up projects, trying to sell my contract, and packing my entire room up. Not only packing, but having to decide what I want, what I don't, what I need for the next two weeks, what I need for the next two months, what I need for the next 18 months, and everything in between.

Now answers to the questions you probably have: I'm going into the MTC on July 1st, I'm excited, nervous, and basically in a daze.

Other than the fact I'm graduating and moving to China, my life is pretty boring, but busy.