- The Internet. The single greatest invention of our time, I say.
- My pit-bull mix, Jeely. For teaching me that saying "never" most of the time doesn't work.
- My circle of friends. You people rock.
- Being alive. When asked what the most surprising thing about my heart transplant experience was, I always respond "that I made it out alive." No joke. It was tough. I am incredibly grateful, even now, to be alive.
- iTunes. How did I organize my music before? And talk about instant gratification.
- Really good design
- Noise cancelling headphones
- My new-to-me car and the friends that sold it to me.
- The fact that I can dispose of my old dead car easily and free just by donating it.
- Adobe products - most especially Illustrator, InDesign and Photoshop
- A fantabulous husband who is also my best friend
- My crackberry (I'd be lying if it wasn't there!)
- Having a challenging and fulfilling job
- Legend of Zelda series and Rock Band for keeping me off the streets
- My mom and dad for being my inspirations
- Caramel macchiato lattes
- An affordable warm house
- My former low sodium diet for getting me off my butt and into the kitchen
- Digital cameras
- Almost everything that comes off a pig
- Food that is so good you want to cry
- That I can leave my job at work so I have plenty of time for playing
- Treadmills (and that I can use them at ridiculously high inclines)
- Movies that make me laugh and that have no blood splatters
- People demonstrating kindness
- Google. Oh Google and your assorted and sundry products, I love thee.
- Wireless internet and the fact that I can get wireless internet/VoIP on my crackberry
- My incredible sister
- Living on the plains but only 20 minutes from spectacular mountains
- The possibility that a public option might actually happen (no more pre-existing conditions! no more lifetime cap!)
- A husband who is a computer genius
- My cats even though they never leave the laundry room any more
- A husband who makes wonderful lattes so we can occasionally save a couple of bucks
- Ready to assemble furniture until such time we decide that's where we want to spend our money
- Digital cameras for giving me something to scrapbook
- Art museums
- The Lord of the Rings books and movies
- Tivo. How did we live without this?
- Hulu. For when I forget to set my Tivo.
- My choirs for giving me a voice and not just for singing
- My night-owl genes because I love being the keeper of this legacy
- My new(ish) heart and the individual who said yes to being a donor
Wednesday, November 25, 2009
Thursday, October 8, 2009
Sunday, August 2, 2009
Friday, June 12, 2009
Sunday, March 29, 2009
This one was easy - I listen to the radio almost exclusively in my car (before I make my practice CDs for choir, that is) and my station is the king of the Repetitive Playlist. So, here are my picks.
Every time I drive somewhere in my car, I hear a Daughtry song. I've tested this. I could be driving from home to the grocery store and hear "Home" and then on the return trip, I will hear "Over You." To my own repetitive shame, I never change the channel on "Feels Like Tonight." There is something about the way the middle of the chorus goes up that feels sooo good in the vocal cords and for one minute, I'm a total rock star.
I don't even know what half the words are because every time I hear this song, all I can do is imagine how I could create a slammin' womens choral arrangement for it. I'm telling you, it would so rock.
All John Mellencamp reminds me of my Uncle Kevin, my fabulous late-uncle whose stories of bustin' a move at John Mellencamp concerts still stand out in my mind. I think of Uncle Kevin every time I hear a Mellencamp song, but this one, with the clapping rhythm and great lyrics gets me every time.
Saturday, March 28, 2009
A hospital is a big scary place for a 3-year old girl. I remember very little from those days of hair loss, travel, and chemo, but I do remember the bright yellow hat. And the little grinning monkey eating the puzzle piece.
There was comfort to be found in those pages. Even though I don't remember getting half as much ice cream as Curious George got.
Tuesday, March 24, 2009
I am one of those blog readers who isn't ashamed that I get emotionally attached to the blogs I follow. My favorite blogger, the incomparable Heather Armstrong just realized every bloggers dream. She's written a book based on her life - a life carved out of this new medium and now on paper.
Ms. Armstrong's blog is pretty typical of the blogs I follow. Most, but not all, are about moms raising any number of kids. Single atheist moms raising only children, married non-believing couples raising only children with more on the way, blended families with kids from adults to infants, Christian families raising many small children - you get the picture.
I can identify with at least something with each of the blogs I read. As most know, I don't have kids - and although each of those above blogs is about motherhood, all are about making a connection with the reader regardless of child status, marital status, gender preference or even belief. And most importantly, all the blogs I read - whether I am looking for an art fix or fun food reviews/recipes - have one thing in common:
All these bloggers are incredible writers.
Because of this, I find as much satisfaction reading Michael Ruhlman's highly opinionated food blog as I do Tara Whitney's Just Be Blogged or Carol Blymire's opus - The French Laundry at Home.
And see, in my fast paced, busy world where reading one book can take months, I find my writing inspiration here in the tiny whizzing packets on the Internet. All those beautiful writers you knew in high school? The ones that should be making millions as authors but instead are raising families, taking pictures, working at their jobs? They are now (or should be) blogging.
Bloggers don't write for themselves. Well, we do, but we are the journalers who could never get into journaling because ultimately, we want people to read what we write. If you find out your friend blogs, I urge you to find a reader you like and subscribe. Read what your friends write - we want to share our lives with you.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
For those curious about our trip to DC...here is a press release detailing why we went. It even includes me!
Thursday, February 12, 2009
You who have had this experience are already nodding. It's like those old anti-drug commercials depicting a smashed up egg as your brain on drugs. When I first started coming back - after a 9-hour surgery, thirteen hours and 34 units of blood later, I was barely alive. I would open heavy eyes enough to see myself bend my arm and wiggle my fingers. It was fascinating to me to watch my pale arm weave through the air for a brief second. Duuuuuuude.
I couldn't speak. I was on a ventilator. The pain sat right outside of my mind's reach. My body burned from behind the drug mask and pain seeped out through my closed eyes in silent fat tears. The cocktail dripping into my veins hid the pain then, but not from my memories now.
Throughout those early hours were the constants in my journey. My sister rubbing my feet. My husband kissing my forehead. My dad sitting quietly in the dark. And, of course, my mother's voice. I recall nothing of what was said, only those brief images and sounds coming from the room and the recesses of my numbed mind.
As the edges of the world began to form, I turned my head to the side. Where I later learned there was a counter, sink and a wall, at that time I saw a curtain over a sliding glass door. The door was partially open and the curtain pulled back. The British nurse was barking, her accent coarse, something about me. The cult. She was reaching over the other nurses at the workstation - she was telling them that I hadn't been initiated yet.
I panicked, my eyes widening. I was trapped in this bed. In this cursed body, by the central line out my neck, by the hot blankets. My waving hand lost its magic. There was a yellowish light from above me - was that the lamp by my bed at my parents home that I used only as an adult? My cheeks were wet. I could still hear that harsh British voice urging the nurses to hurry.
At that moment, my mother came into the room. I called out to her. "Help me!" I was crying harder now. "They're going to hurt me! Put me into a cult!"
My mom brushed my cheek with her hand. She told me that everything was going to be okay. That she would pray with me. I looked at her and she held my hot hands in her cool ones. "God is in this room, Sarah," she said. I could see her face and her hair silloutted against the yellow light. "Just remember that God is in this room."
I closed my eyes. Reassured by her voice and her prayer.
A long time later, when I was out of the hospital, when I heard about a family friend having a hard time post-surgery, I asked my mom if she remembered when she came in and helped me through my hallucinations. She said no. She never did anything like that. I pressed her. Was she sure?
That's when I knew. God had been in the room with me. God had been there all the time. A shrewd move - when a voice and visage were too powerful to come to a girl fresh from the shock of survival, instead came as one of his humble servants. In the voice and visage of the one I trusted more than any other, He came to remind me that I wasn't alone.
I'm so fortunate to have the mother that I do. She's been there through marriages, moves, surgeries, graduations and Super Bowls. Nearly every momentous occasion in my life, has a corresponding memory of my mother. I look up to her as I look up to few people. Maybe anyone, actually.
On this, her birthday (three days late notwithstanding), I wish her an amazing year full of growth, love and life anew.
I love you, Mom!
Saturday, February 7, 2009
I had my annual tests on Monday. Everything went well except for the insane amount of sedative. It was probably totally normal for folks accustomed to the juice, but for me, dude, I was toast for a couple of days. Anyway, on to the good stuff!
- Grade zero biopsy – no rejection
- Heart is pumping like a champ – 4.6 liters. Compare that to the 1.5 liters from my pre-transplant days.
- My VO2 max has improved from last year and vastly from years before. I am at 96% of my age potential. Most transplants, due to the physical differences in our cardiovascular anatomy, hover around 75% of age potential.
- My heart is clear of any blockages. I think I could auction my total cholesterol number if I wanted, but to be honest, that's all thanks to Zocor.
After my clinic visit in March, I'm not due back for a year. A YEAR. More on this in a later blog post. In the meantime, here is my Thumper. You can see the outline of the heart and the beautiful clear left coronary arteries. The weird circular things are actually the wires around my sternum.
Thursday, January 29, 2009
I've seen this Internet meme floating around on a couple of the vlogs I follow on YouTube. An internet meme, I had to look it up, is defined on Wikipedia as "a neologism [a recently coined word] used to describe a catchphrase or concept that spreads quickly from person to person via the Internet, much like an inside joke."
So, the Google Verb Meme - take your name and a verb and Google it to find out what you are up to. Try it for yourself! Here is mine.
Sarah needs a cold shower, self-esteem. [Wow. Who knew?]
Sarah Looks Like
Sarah looks like Nicole Ritchie. [Well I guess I am pretty thin.]
Sarah says "Let's just say that I knew this meeting wasn't to promote me to office person of the century." [More than you know...more than you know.]
Sarah wants us to know that she’ll help expand that hole. [I am not happy that I share a name with Sarah Palin.]
Sarah does not eat humans. [You can all rest easy. I prefer pork.]
Sarah hates you. [Oh dear. Not really.]
Sarah asks "what's this New Year's thing?" [Um...]
Sarah likes to smell Colleen's armpits. [I guess.]
Sarah eats cake. [I can guarantee you that it isn't human cake.]
Sarah wears a bra and shoes sometimes. [But only sometimes...]
Sarah Was Arrested For
Sarah was arrested for cutting buckets of water that would put out the fire. [Hence why I'm not allowed to fireteam. So sad this habit of mine.]
Sarah loves pop culture. [Really? I guess I sort of do.]
So now that you have all this misinformation about me, tell me about your double life...
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Monday, January 12, 2009
In lieu of a real blog entry today (more to come as the week progresses) here are a few odds and ends:
- For all those who prayed for Liz, thank you. Everything is back to normal (which for her, is consistently good) and she is scheduled for release tomorrow.
- We are smitten. We are in love. I can't say any more even though I am nearly bursting at the seams. Hopefully more good news to report as the weeks progress.
- Try beef stroganoff made with buffalo sirloin sometime. You will not be disappointed and it's better for you anyway.
- It's always the best when you hear stories about someone you've known all your life that you've never heard before. In this case, it is my dad. Check out his blog if you get a moment.
- And lastly, as a present to all of you who have ever hung out on YouTube and shudder at the horrible comments. These girls have it going on.
Thank you again to all the new readers! Hope to see you again soon!